


Hale of a Clue

by Farscapegeek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Allison Argent, BAMF Lydia Martin, Bad Puns, Can't repeat enough all Deaths are temporary, Clue AU, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Humor, M/M, Mystery, Nerd Derek Hale, Nerdiness, POV Multiple, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Puns & Word Play, References to Clue | Cluedo, Temporary Character Death, except for our villains, sorry not sorry for the bad puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farscapegeek/pseuds/Farscapegeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn’t sure how long he stands there mouth agape at the man in front of him but he is sure it was far longer than what was polite. But he can’t help admiring the man’s jaw line, and scruff, and the way he fills out the suit.</p><p>“Are you coming in or would you prefer to objectify me on the porch all night?” A gruff, but not unpleasantly so, voice calls out.</p><p>Flailing a bit Stiles moved towards the man, wondering is he the butler, doorman, or host of this party. All he knows is he is wishfully thinking this guy isn’t totally straight. “Are you the butler?” he blurts out, then cringes. Way to make a first impression, Stiles.</p><p>The man's impressive eyebrows narrow into a scowl. “Yes. I’m Wadsworth. The coat rack is there.” Wadsworth turns and visibly winces as his shoe squelches.</p><p>“Aren’t you supposed to do that for me? You do work here right?” Stiles asks as he shrugs off his jacket.</p><p>“No, I just like to trespass in creepy houses on hills in the rain and open doors for people that drive death traps.” Wadsworth says, as he blows out a deep breath and points Stiles towards the coat rack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hale of a Clue

**Author's Note:**

> First of all Thank you to the wonderful artist that inspired this work paperclipmagnet (tumblr). Link to the art is included.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing a Teen Wolf/Clue mashup in which everyone lives at the end. Because who doesn't like to ignore certain deaths in the Teen Wolf canon?
> 
> That being said there are characters that die in this. It is based off the movie Clue in which a lot of people die. But like I said in the tags they are TEMPORARY. The only person to remain permanently dead is the villain. There are more details in the authors notes in the end about one of the deaths but you will be spoiled if you read it now. 
> 
> Big thank you to my beta Anndie who put up with my many freakouts and was very patient as the story got longer and longer.
> 
> I do not give permission to repost this on GoodReads.

[Art by paperclipmagnets on tumblr](http://paperclipmagnets.tumblr.com/post/125892377074/hale-of-a-clue-by-farscapegeek#notes)

 

 

Sighing deeply, Derek pulls up to the mansion. He is running behind and Peter does not tolerate tardiness. Everything has to be perfect for Peter’s dinner party tonight. Derek only hopes that Erica and Boyd had done their part because he really does not need his alpha throwing a hissy fit. 

Just then a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder echoes overhead. Seconds later the rain starts to fall in sheets. Perfect; that was just perfect. Derek pulls his car to the side of the mansion, parking the driver’s side closest to the mansion, and curses Peter’s “artistic vision” for the lack of a garage. “It would mess with the integrity of this place,” he mocks Peter’s voice.

Sprinting out of the car, Derek almost makes it to the front porch when a snarling mass tackles him from behind. He stumbles sideways and plants his left foot directly in a large mud puddle. Cursing his luck, Derek reaches out to grab the scruff of whomever had barreled into him and drags them to the porch. Peter’s guard dogs were more for show than actual guarding; the two huskies are all bark and only a little bite. Scully, with her blue eyes and tan coat, was always the more rambunctious of the two, while Mulder in his black and white coat definitely acted like an older sibling. Derek scans the yard and sees Mulder rounding the corner towards them. He whistles for Mulder to join them on the porch. Kneeling, he scratches under their chins and accepts their slobbery kisses as he chains them to their posts. He could hear Peter’s voice in his head scolding him for giving attention to his guard dogs _‘how are they ever going to learn Derek if you spoil them rotten?’_

Glancing at his watch, he sees that dealing with Mulder and Scully had taken more time than he expected. He quickly enters the house, hangs up his coat, and wipes at the mud on his shoe, trying to get it as clean as he can. He still needs to check in on Erica and Boyd with their preparations, but that means he won’t have time to change his shoes or socks. Derek grimaced as he walks down the hall, hearing his foot squelch with every step. 

His first stop is the kitchen to check in with Boyd, hoping his fiancé is standing around pestering her love. Luck is finally on his side as he finds Erica leaning over the counter trying to coax Boyd into giving her a taste of his dessert concoction.

"Erica, stop bothering Boyd and let him finish; the guests are almost here. And really? A French maid outfit?” Derek sighs at the sight of her.

“Hey, blame your uncle. He wanted us all to wear period costumes remember? I’m just doing what the boss man commands.” Erica blinks innocently and sashays out of the kitchen, allegedly to work but more likely to refresh her lipstick and check her nails. 

Glancing over at Boyd, Derek raises his eyebrow in question. Boyd tightly nods and walks off to stir something. Derek could only assume that meant Boyd had everything in control so he rolls his shoulders back and walks to his post by the front door. 

*** *** *** *** *** 

Pulling up to the mansion, Jackson glances around at the grounds. He wonders what kind of money he would have to make in order to afford a place like this, although he wasn’t sure about the tower on one side of the building. It was a bit cliché to a have a turret on your mansion when it was in the woods on a hill. If his adopted father hadn’t cut him off and sent him to a military academy when he was younger then he most likely would be living in a place like this. Just less creepy/evil and more awesome, like him. 

One major change he would have made to this place would be the addition of a garage, or covered parking at least. All this money and no place to park a car, he thinks. The Hales should understand what weather could do to expensive clothing. Jackson parks his car as close to the front door as he can and makes a dash for the porch. So focused on minimizing the damage to his Italian suit and suede shoes, he doesn’t see the dogs until they are snarling at him. He leaps back off the porch, but the dogs don’t follow. They snap and bark from where they are chained, but aren’t able to get much closer. Jackson breathes a sigh of relief. “Holy shit are they trying to kill their guests before dinner?” he says, as he steps around the dogs to knock on the door. Before he could rap the wolf’s head knocker, the door is yanked open and a surly butler is standing on the other side.

Jackson steps through the doorway, removing his jacket and holding it out to the butler to hang up. He could see several closed doors on both sides of the hall and a wide wooden staircase at the far side of the hall. The butler makes no move to grab his jacket, so Jackson thrusts it towards him again. “Why weren’t you outside to park my car? I had to walk to the door in this rain. If these shoes are ruined I’m sending your boss the bill.” He glances over and is met with a piercing stare. "Well are you going to hang that or what? I’m Jack-” he starts to stay.

The butler cuts him off. “You’re Colonel Mustard. I’m sure you read the invitation which said we would be using pseudonyms tonight. You can wait in the parlor.” He nods towards the first door to the right as he takes Jackson’s jacket from him and hangs it on the coat rack to the left of the door. 

Jackson rolls his eyes “Definitely talking to your boss about his staff.” With that he heads into the parlor and lets out a low whistle as he enters. At least the place was furnished more to his taste. There is dark wooden paneling covered the walls with a spectacular stone fireplace on one wall. A couple of couches and chairs scattered about the room are covered in a butter soft leather. One whole wall is windows with French doors leading into what he is sure is a beautiful garden. The walls has different art pieces depicting some forest scenes, capped by one large painting of a snarling wolf above the fireplace.

“Yeah that’s not creepy at all.” Jackson says as he settles on one of the couches to wait for the rest of the party.

*** *** *** *** ***

Allison turns onto the long driveway of the Hale mansion. She never imagined that she would be going to the Hale house of all places. Given her family's history with the Hales, she was shocked to receive a note inviting her to dinner. Her parents have no idea where she is; she had to sneak out of the house and drive herself instead of using the driver her parents insisted she have “for her own safety.” 

As she reaches the top of the driveway, Allison parks next to a silver sports car in front of the house. She turns to the back seat and grabs her umbrella, opening it as she steps out of the car. As she steps around a few large puddles, she spots the dogs on the porch and gives them a wide berth before knocking on the door.

The door opens and she is met with the butler with what appears to be a permanent scowl on his face. Begrudgingly, he steps to the side to let her in. “Come in Mrs. White.”

"How do you know-” Allison says as she closes her umbrella.

"The parlor is just this way. May I take your things?” The butler looks like he would rather have his teeth pulled then doing this duty, but holds a hand out to her anyway. 

Allison hands over her coat and umbrella while responding "Of course Mr...?" 

"Wadsworth," the grumpy face responds. 

She raises her eyebrows at that but says nothing as she is led into the parlor. She sees a voluptuous blonde pouring a surly handsome blonde man a drink near the windows. "Yvette will get you whatever you require." With that Wadsworth turned and left the room. 

"A bit rude for a butler don't you think?" Allison says to the room in general as she takes the nearest seat.

Yvette snorts from across the room. "This is him excited. You haven't even seen him angry yet."

“Just perfect." She crosses one leg over the other and sits back to wait.

*** *** *** *** ***

Kira stands at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the house. She can sense the presence of werewolves in the house and the feeling of something more evil within the house, both of which make her hesitate to step foot into there. However, if she didn’t do this, then she would never be able to find peace. She is tired of looking over her shoulder everywhere she goes in fear. 

Walking up the stairs, she stops to admire the dogs straining at their chains to get to her. “Who is a pair of cutie puppy dogs? Yes you are.” The dogs seem confused by her, cocking their heads as though she is familiar to them. She grins, knowing they can sense her fox and feel a kin towards her. She creates a ball of light for them to chase and tosses it in the air before she knocks on the door. 

Kira takes a tiny step back as an intimidating figure opens the door. She quickly recovers as she recognizes the werewolf as non-hostile, even if a little frightening. He glances at the light ball the dogs were happily chasing in circles and sends her an exasperated look. As she steps through the door, he holds a hand out for her jacket. She hands it to him and raises an eyebrow at the squelch as he takes a step back towards the coat rack. 

“You should probably change your shoes or you might catch cold.” Kira says, adjusting her clothing while trying to catch his eye.

His eyebrows furrow darkly at her comment as his eyes flash blue. She allows her eyes to flash gold and meet his head on. After a beat, the werewolf’s eyes change back to their normal color as he hangs up her coat. “Mrs. Peacock, the parlor is just this way.” He says, dropping her gaze as he turns down the hallway.

“Great I love meeting new people!” Kira bubbles, trying to get him to look at her again. “Are they werewolves like you? Or something else? Is it just your pack or are others joining us? I don’t run in a pack myself since hey fox but ya know. Are we playing a live version of Clue, or re-enacting the movie? Do I have to be Mrs. Peacock or can I be Ms. Scarlett instead?” 

Ignoring her questions completely, he wrenches open a door on the right side of the hallway. “The others are inside.” Kira walks in and is startled by the door slamming behind her.

“Hey! What about Mr. Body? When is he coming? Hello? Come back!” Turning to face the others, Kira lets out a sigh. “Just great. So, I’m Mrs. Peacock, and which character are you today?” she asks the occupants of the room. 

*** *** *** *** ***

“Come on baby. Don’t do this to me. The creepy mansion on the hill is just a little farther. You can do it.” Chugging up the hill, Roscoe sputters a few times but ultimately makes it. Stiles parks next to a sleek black Camero while eying the other even fancier cards next to the house. At least there wasn’t some snooty valet to park his car. His baby Roscoe could be temperamental in the best hands.

Jogging up to the porch, Stiles congratulates himself on only tripping over three things. It is almost all for naught as he nearly falls backwards as he spots the two wolf-like dogs on the porch. He blinks to make sure he is seeing it correctly – they seem to be playing with some sort of glowing ball. The light suddenly vanishes as he is stepping forward to investigate it, and he stumbles a second time when the door behind the dogs opens to reveal a very handsome man. 

Stiles isn’t sure how long he stands there mouth agape at the man in front of him but he is sure it was far longer than what was polite. But he can’t help admiring the man’s jaw line, and scruff, and the way he fills out the suit.

“Are you coming in or would you prefer to objectify me on the porch all night?” A gruff, but not unpleasantly so, voice calls out.

Flailing a bit Stiles moved towards the man, wondering is he the butler, doorman, or host of this party. All he knows is he is wishfully thinking this guy isn’t totally straight. “Are you the butler?” he blurts out, then cringes. Way to make a first impression, Stiles.

The man's impressive eyebrows narrow into a scowl. “Yes. I’m Wadsworth. The coat rack is there.” Wadsworth turns and visibly winces as his shoe squelches. 

“Aren’t you supposed to do that for me? You do work here right?” Stiles asks as he shrugs off his jacket.

“No, I just like to trespass in creepy houses on hills in the rain and open doors for people that drive death traps.” Wadsworth says, as he blows out a deep breath and points Stiles towards the coat rack. 

“Hey, don’t talk about Roscoe that way. And how do you know what car I was in? You were inside.” Stiles hangs his jacket up then stares at the butler, wondering how he could have heard the Jeep driving up the hill.

“They probably heard you in the next county over, chugging up the hill. And in any case, those things in the wall that are clear are called-” Wadsworth takes a step towards Stiles, not menacingly but almost playful confrontation.

They are interrupted from their repartee by a blonde bombshell in a classic French maid outfit clearing her throat. “Um excuse me sirs, but perhaps Mr. Green would like to retire to the parlor with the other guests? Or I could get you two a private room.” She winks at them both.

Flushing red, Wadsworth snaps out, “That won’t be necessary Yvette.”

Stiles glances between the two in surprise. “Yvette? You really are going for the whole Clue thing aren’t you? Are you going to say you buttle next?” He looks at Wadsworth with a grin. 

Avoiding any eye contact, Wadsworth spins on his heel and stalks away down the hall, opposite from where Yvette appeared. 

“Don’t mind him. He is bitter about the theme, but Mr. Body thought it would be fitting considering the activities planned for tonight.” The maid says, beckoning Stiles to follow her with a wicked smile.

“Activities?” Stiles echoes nervously, but allows her to show him to the parlor and shut the door behind him.

*** *** *** *** ***

Cursing his decision to take his mom’s ancient car rather than his bike, Scott guides the powerless car to the side of the road. Just wonderful, his mom was going to kill him. At least with his bike, he may have been soaked, but at least he would have made it to his destination and not been stranded. Pulling out his cell, Scott notices he doesn’t have any service. There goes his idea of calling anyone to at least get a tow. His next option is to trudge up the hill to the nearest house, which is probably his original destination, and leave the car abandoned here. He looks down at his outfit and then out at the hill he has to climb; the period outfit he is currently wearing will be soaked and ruined by the time he makes it to the house. Perhaps his host would have a change of period appropriate attire for him to change into. Just as Scott is thinking that if he strips and shifts, he could make it faster and avoid ruining his wardrobe, he sees a pair of headlights in his mirror. 

Scott quickly turns his hazard lights on and prays that whomever it was would stop. He watches as the car approaching him slowed to a stop. Hopping out of his car, Scott dives for the small opening in the passenger window and waves at the beautiful yet bored looking redhead. “Thank you-“

The woman cuts him off. “Get in. I’m assuming you are going to the Hale house. This upholstery is leather and I don’t need a drowned rat as a passenger.”

“Yes, yes, sorry." Scott slides into the passenger seat as she barely gives him enough time to buckle before the car starts moving again. 

“I’m Ms. Scarlett. You are?” The redhead turns right onto a gravel driveway. Scott recognizes the address as the one on the invitation. 

“Oh right, the fake names; uhh Professor Plum.” Scott says, holding his hands in front of the vents to dry them off.

“You are a professor?” she asks, focusing on the hill ahead.

“Yes? Sort of? I teach high school?” Scott squints out the front window, looking for the house but can’t see anything through the sheets of rain.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” she continues, sounding less interested in this conversation.

“Telling.” He sits back in the seat, hoping that his jacket isn’t seeping too much water into the leather.

She gives him a tight lipped smile and doesn’t speak for the rest of the way up the hill. As they reach the top, Ms. Scarlett double parks behind a Jaguar and slides smoothly out of the car. “Hurry up Plum, I was already running late on account of my staff and picking up a stray puppy like yourself only set me back further.” 

Marching determinedly to the door, she gives it a loud staccato knock, completely ignoring the two large dogs to her right throwing a fit as Scott gets closer. The door opens and Scott’s nostrils flare at the scent of another werewolf. They lock eyes with each other and would have flashed their werewolf eyes had Ms. Scarlett not been there.

Ignorant of the situation between the two, the redhead says, “I’m Ms. Scarlett, this is ‘Professor’ Plum.” Scott can hear her adding quotations around his title and he ducks his head. “I assume by the time that we are the last to arrive. Now, I would like to get this night over with; I do have a business to run.” Tossing her coat and umbrella at the werewolf escorting them, she strides to the room from where they can hear voices coming. Giving the man a sheepish grin and a shrug, Scott hangs his coat on the hanger and follows the scary woman. 

*** *** *** *** ***

Taking a deep breath, Derek enters the room behind his last two guests and looks around. This night is going to be the death of him, he just knows it. In this house, there is a kitsune, another alpha werewolf, two spoiled brats, a hunter, and a cocky little shit of a human, and those are just the guests! His eyes pass over the guests one more time and stop on the human, the very attractive human; one with a mouth of sin, a lithe body, and a distracting scatter of moles on his face that Derek wants to follow with his tongue. Which he will never be able to do since his uncle is an insane bastard who thinks blackmailing people was fun. 

Plastering a polite smile on his face, he says, “Thank you all for coming. If you would please follow me dinner will be served.” He gestures towards to the door behind him.

A snort from the beautiful Mr. Green catches Derek’s attention. Mr. Green’s rich amber eyes look huge behind the chunky frames. “Dinner will be served? Did you practice that in front of the mirror before we all arrived? I haven’t even had a chance to introduce myself to the new arrivals. I thought butlers were supposed to know about manners and shit.”

Gritting his teeth, the werewolf spits out, “Fine, introduce yourself. That is if you can stop talking long enough to let someone else speak.”

Ms. Scarlett interjects, “Can we drop this pseudonym B.S.? I already know who half of you are. Beacon Hills isn’t that large.” 

Mrs. White shoots up at her suggestion, “What if we don’t want the others to know our real names? Did you think of that?” 

Giving her a once over, Ms. Scarlett replies, “Oh honey, your identity isn’t a secret here. The whole county recognizes your infamous family, Ms. Allison Argent.” She points to the surly blonde standing against the wall. “You’re Jackson Whitmore, the former military man now running for Senate,” she pauses and turned to Derek. “We are in the Hale House and you are too young to be Peter, so I’m assuming you are Derek.” 

With a smirk at their astonished looks she said, “I’m Lydia Martin owner of Beauty and Brains Escorting. I make a point to know others in the community.“

Mrs. Peacock interrupts Ms. Scarlett before she can continue. “I’m Kira Yukimura.” She glances around nervously at the others and stammers, “I remember your parents Derek. You know from when I was little of course. I mean, of course when I was little. Everyone’s little once right?” Turning to Scott, Kira blushes and gestures towards him as though it’s his turn.

Scott fumbles as the center of attention and replies, “My students call me Professor McCall. But, you can call me Scott.”

Kira meets his eyes and asks, “Professor? What subject do you teach in college?” Scott flushes and opens his mouth to reply when a voice to his right rings out.

“Scotty? Scotty McCall?” Scott looks to where Mr. Green is staring at him in amazement and realizes he knows those eyes.

“Stiles? Stiles Stilinski??” Suddenly, the two men leap across the room at each other. Derek’s claws come out in alarm before he realizes they are hugging each other. Scowling, he retracts his claws and crosses his arms. Of course the cute one ( _Stiles_ , his memory helpfully supplies) would discover his long lost love or something at this party. 

“Stiles, I haven’t seen you since you moved away! How long have you been back in Beacon Hills? Why didn’t you Facebook me?” Scott asks, pulling back from Stiles’ arms enough to look at him.

Laughing, Stiles replies, “I’m not really back back. My job kinda takes me all around. Just got back in town last night, for this dinner.” The room sobers at that remark, each curious yet apprehensive as to why they are brought here. Erica, whom Derek would have to buy a gift for later, enters the room and breaks the silence to announce that dinner is served. 

*** *** *** *** ***

Stiles pauses for a moment before following the others out. He can’t believe that he would run into his childhood best friend at this creepy dinner party of all places. He and his dad had moved away from Beacon Hills after his mother had passed away, heading east to where the rest of their family lived. Like all young kids do, he and Scott had promised to write to each other, but as they grew up, the correspondences decreased. Now they are Facebook friends, but haven’t really spoken in years. Was it a coincidence they were both here tonight? 

That isn’t the only suspicious part of tonight. This party contains a very odd mixture of people: from politically powerful figures to infamous family connections to financially secure individuals, based on how the parking lot looks. To further the confusion, the name Argent rings a bell in Stiles’ head. He remembers peeking at his father’s folder from the Hale fire and seeing a Kate Argent’s name as a suspect, but there had been a lack of proof and so the fire had been ruled accidental. Was this Ms. Argent related to her?

Stiles is brought out of his musings by Derek’s voice. “You coming, Mr. Green?” He looks up at Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, wondering why he came back.

“Ugh no, please none of that mister shit. And drop the game, it’s just Stiles.” Stiles says, starting to walk faster.

“I don’t think you are famous enough to be known by just one name… Stiles.” Derek replies as they reach the dining room door.

Stiles bursts out laughing at that, stops and holds out his hand to shake. “Stiles Stilinski.” Derek raises an eyebrow at that and shakes his hand. “Shut up dude, it’s a nickname. Didn’t you say there is food? I’m famished. Let’s get a move on.”

If he deliberately brushes way too close to Derek to squeeze through the doorway and catches a closer glimpse of those gorgeous hazel eyes, no one else has to know.

Entering the dining room, Stiles lets out a low whistle. The whole house just oozes old money, but here even more. The room is long and narrow with a door leading to what he assumes is the kitchen on one side. The center of the room features a long oak table made of one slab of wood and it seems big enough to seat their whole party twice-over. On the opposing wall from the kitchen are three well-stocked china cabinets, and _three_ chandeliers hang over the table. 

“Where do you even find a tree big enough to get a table like this? Did a tree hugger protest the making of this beauty?” Stiles asks, trailing a finger along the polished surface.

“It was too close to the original house when it…” Derek stops, then snaps through clenched teeth, “Just sit.” 

“Shutting up now.” Stiles mimes zipping his mouth closed as he drops into his seat.

*** *** *** *** ***

The boy, nay young man, _Stiles_ , is going to drive Derek over the edge, between his looks and his incessant comments. Derek slams open the swinging door between the dining room and the kitchen and barks at Boyd to just serve the damn appetizers already. He leans back against a counter and pinches his nose to stave off the incoming headache. 

As he stands there, his werewolf ears hear Boyd and Erica serve the guests the soup and toast for their first course. A female voice asks if they should wait for their host Mr. Body, but her query is met by silence. Derek can hear the clank of spoons against the china, and the crisp crack of the toast as it breaks, but doesn’t hear talking beyond the occasional casual remark.

A clatter and a muffled thump drives Derek out of his slump on the counter. Someone had dropped their spoon then fallen out of their chair instead of just requesting a new one from Erica. Appearing in the doorway, Derek stalks to the table where Stiles is sheepishly setting his chair upright again. Derek just looks at him with a raised eyebrow in what he hopes is a threatening manner. 

“Calm down the murder brows, dude. Just a little mishap with a toast point and the spoon.” Stiles scrambles into his chair and accepts the spoon Derek hands him.

In a disdainful manner, Lydia replies, “You were trying to launch said toast point through the air to Scott across the table.” 

Scott chirps out with a grin, “And it was awesome!” as he holds his hand up for a high five.

With a muttered “Men,” Lydia turns back to her soup. 

Derek gathers up Stiles’ soup bowl and plate and says, “Erica, the main course if you will.” 

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that! Bring it back!” Stiles yells as Derek glares over his shoulder and enters the kitchen. 

*** *** *** *** ***

Watching that tight ass of Hale’s leave the room could be his new favorite pastime. “Ugh, hate to have him leave, but love to watch him go.” Stiles hears a clang in the kitchen as he mutters that under his breath. _Weird_. 

Clearing his throat, he cheerfully asks the room, “So what do you think we will be having for dinner? Poultry? Nah. Meat? Hale could be a meat man.” 

A slightly hysterical giggle is heard from the kitchen. Stiles shrugs it off and continues talking to whomever is listening. “Fish? He could be a fish man. Catching them with his bare hands in the stream. Or maybe both? I like both. Meat and fish. Surf and turf if you will. Equal opportunity player here myself.” 

Clattering as though something is dropped comes from the kitchen and a deep chuckle accompanies the giggles. “Man, no fair. They can’t be having more fun in the kitchen then we are in here.” Stiles glances around the table at the snickering from Jackson, a look of sympathy from Lydia, and looks of horror from Scott, Kira, and Allison. “What? It’s not like he could hear me.” He finishes.

Scott’s eyes go impossibly wide. “Bro you..” 

“Who in god’s name would want to blackmail you?” Lydia questions Stiles. “And why? We all know our reasons, but what’s yours?”

“Excuse me?” Stiles asks.

“Blackmail,” Lydia repeats slowly. “It’s why we are all here tonight. The invites. I assume none of you have met Peter Hale before in person. Or you would know what an utter slimeball he is. So I deduced that he’s probably the one blackmailing all of us. I assumed tonight has something to do with that.” 

A door slams outside the dining room. Derek appears in the kitchen doorway with a covered dish in his hand and his eyes slightly wide with panic. “Erica, did you save him some soup?” he hisses out. 

“No need nephew, no need,” Peter says as he strides into the room. He gives his guests a once-over, narrowing his eyes at Scott and Allison and lingering just a bit longer than proper on Lydia. 

Lydia glares at him. “If you are done checking me out Mr. Hale, I was just asking the others if they were here because you were blackmailing them as well.” 

“Very astute, Lydia. Shall we retire to the parlor so we may discuss it?” Peter says, nodding towards the door.

“Hey what about dinner?” cries Stiles. Peter whips around to glare at him and he mumbles, “Never mind, not hungry.”

Another clatter comes from the kitchen with a wail of “Why did I even bother cooking?” Scott’s chair scrapes back as he stands to help Kira from her seat. Peter stands to do the same to Lydia’s chair, but Allison steps between them and says “No need, I can help her.”

Peter bows slightly and gestures to Lydia’s chair with a slimy grin. “Of course, Miss Argent. As you wish.” He turns and slinks out of the dining room. 

“No offense man, but your uncle is creepy as shit.” Stiles declares to Derek, who is now helping Erica clear the table. 

Erica chuckles, “Derek can we keep this one? I like him.” Stiles takes a step backwards as Erica advances, a predatory look on her face. 

“Erica. Kitchen. Now. Then meet us in the parlor.” Derek’s voice commands, sending a shiver down Stiles’ spine.

“No fun.” Pouting, Erica sashays away to the kitchen, swinging her hips. 

Taking his chance to escape, Stiles flees the dining room. 

*** *** *** *** ***

Following behind Stiles, Derek makes a detour to lock the front door. He can hear the uptick in Scott’s heartbeat as the tumblers fall into place. Entering the parlor, Derek calmly closes the door behind him. 

“I heard you lock the front door. Why did you lock us in?” Scott asks, eyes bouncing around the room to the others. 

Peter grins. “Because none of you are leaving until we settle this.” He relaxes back onto one of the chairs in the room.

Jackson jumps to his feet and strides to the French doors. “I’m not being kept here like a prisoner.” He jerks the doors open but leaps back and slams the doors shut when two snarling dogs leap towards him. “What the hell man!”

“Take a seat, won’t you? Now, as the lovely Ms. Martin deduced, you are all here because I am blackmailing you. Each for a different reason, of course.” Peter crosses one leg over the other and faces Lydia. “Let’s start with you, my dear.” 

Haughtily, Lydia replies, “I’m not ashamed of what I do. I run an escort service, so what? My girls don’t sleep with their clients. They are more companions than anything. Most of them are putting themselves through college or escaping a terrible past. I give them somewhere to live and train them in skills needed to survive in a world run by men. Obviously some of the men in this room have no problem with it, since you’ve used my services.” Derek smirks seeing Jackson squirm when Lydia mentioned some of the men in the room had used her company's service. Of course the over polished blonde man would use that. 

“And what about the women that don’t abide by your rules, Ms. Martin?” asks Peter smugly.

“They are terminated. Immediately.” Lydia turns her nose to Peter. Stiles and Scott exchange surprised looks across the room.

“But even a whiff of such behavior would dismantle your business.” Derek watches his uncle set up Lydia with this conversation. _If Peter had a mustache, he would be twirling it right now_ , he thinks.

“Yes, that’s why I pay you to help keep it quiet. I don’t want to have to worry about that information getting out. Most of the men that promised to protect me would balk if certain people got ahold of my client records.” Lydia’s bored look turns predatory as she faces Allison. “And I assume it is your family's reputation that got you here?” 

“What else would it be?” Allison meets Lydia’s stare head-on.

“Oh I don’t know, Ms. Argent.” Peter interrupts, drawing Allison’s attention. “Your family may have quite the violent reputation, but you are no angel.” 

“I never proclaimed to be. I am an Argent after all.” Allison says calmly.

“I wonder, did you declare your innocence to the first man you were engaged to? Or just the subsequent ones?” Peter places both feet on the floor and leans forward, elbows on his knees.

Allison shoots out of her chair and small daggers suddenly appear in her hands. Derek has to restrain himself from shifting and going after her when the instinct of _protect the pack_ kicks in. He has no idea when or if Peter was going to reveal their heritage and connection to the Argents, and he didn't want to steal his alpha’s thunder. 

"Are you implying that I murder my suitors?" Allison’s eyes blaze as she holds herself still.

"Let's recap, shall we?” Peter counts off on his fingers. “Your first fiancé, the bleeding heart Peace Corps doctor, suddenly disappeared; I’m assuming that one was your choice. The second one, the son of an arms manufacturer, had a tragic accident; I think that would be your parents’ choice. Then there was the third one, who decided to move his entire family’s business to South America. I bet your parents didn’t think one of their organized crime allies would up and leave them. They haven’t yet set you up for a fourth, have they? Or is it just no one will volunteer anymore?” 

With a smirk, Allison answers. “You think you know me because of a few facts of whom I’m dating? Bad things may have happened to them, but it was hardly my fault.” Her daggers drop to her waist as her arms relax.

“Is that what you told the DEA when they asked you to be their informant?” Peter’s face echoes her smirk.

She pales at that, hands tightening on the daggers again. “How do you know about that?”

“I know a great many things, my dear, including the truth behind your family’s real purpose in life. You should learn some respect for your elders if you want to remain alive.” Peter sits back in his chair again, ready to tell a tale.

“How about we all sit down and have a drink? Calm down a little?” Scott cuts in, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. With a glare to both him and Peter, Allison slips her daggers back away out of sight. “I don’t think we need to go through everyone’s crimes. We can just move on to what you plan to do to us here tonight.” 

“Oh no, Scott. You don’t get to hide away. He aired our dirty laundry, I think everyone is fair game.” Lydia states as Allison takes a seat next to her. 

“Fine. Look, it’s dumb. I always loved racing motorcycles and wanted to do it for a living, but my Mom didn’t approve. Said I had to have a back-up, one that wouldn’t get me killed. She already had to deal with my dad abandoning us and she didn’t want to lose me too. On the day of the SAT’s, I sorta blew the test off because I wanted to go for this race a town over. There was an accident at the race that day and some people got seriously injured. Seeing that kinda opened my eyes to my future, you know? Only I had missed the test and my mom had already paid for it and money was tight after my dad had left. So instead of wasting the money and signing up for a new test, I had my friend Danny hack in and give me a test score. I always felt super guilty for it, and it’s one of the reason I became a teacher. I want to make sure other kids are picking the right path for them, instead of the easy way out. But it would crush my mom if she found out, as well as destroy my career if they found out I lied to go to college.” Scott stops pacing as he finishes his story.

“Oh hey how is Melissa?” Stiles asks out of the blue, seemingly oblivious to his old friend’s distress. “And sorry about your dad dude. He was always a dick though, even when we were little.”

“Fine and thanks? I think?” Scott eyes him incredulously, but appears to take Stiles’ detour in stride.

“No problem!” Stiles beams a smile at him.

“You can just feel the goodness oozing out of him. Even when the boy has done something wrong.” Peter muses. “Right, nephew?”

“Uhh, sure.” Derek is startled from staring at Stiles’ smile and lips, and if he is being honest with himself his everything, by Peter’s question. His uncle smirks and Derek feels himself flush. 

“What about you, Kira?” Derek asks, desperately trying to get the attention off of himself. He can feel Erica smile knowingly by the fireplace. Why couldn’t she have taken more time to clear the dining room? She is never going to let him live this crush down. 

At this, Kira flushes and looks around. “I’m not sure I should. I mean, is everyone in the know? Are we safe here? Considering an Argent is here, I’ve probably said too much.” Seeing the confused looks on Stiles’ and Lydia’s faces, Kira buries her head in her hands. “I’ve definitely said too much.”

“Peter, maybe we should just get on with it?” Derek tries to suggest. At that, Peter turns around with a snarl, half-shifted. 

“Holy fucking shit dude! You _are_ werewolves!” Stiles exclaims. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Everyone was always calling me crazy but I knew it!” 

Derek turns to him. “You suspected?” he asks warily. 

“Yeah man, ever since I lived in Beacon Hills when I was a kid. One time when I was around 9, I remember hearing wolves howl and when I asked my dad he said there were no wolves in California. I knew what I heard though. So I asked my mom, who was always the more fanciful sort, why the wolves were crying. She said something or someone must have hurt their pack. That night my mom told me a story of people who are both man and wolf, who call to the moon in sorrow and joy. When I asked where I could see one of them, she said they will only reveal themselves to those in need and they must remain hidden to protect themselves. I didn’t realize it, but the night I heard the howls was the night of the fire at your house.” Derek sucks in a sharp breath but remains silent as Stiles continues.

“After that night, she told me stories of other mythical creatures and said that one day if I believed, I would see one of them. I spent my life and my career studying the things in life that didn’t fit. When I joined the FBI, I started working in their unexplained division. I’m like a modern day Mulder. Haven’t yet found a Scully though. The truth is always out there, I just never found the truth about werewolves until now. But man, I have seen some crazy shit. Vampires and selkies, fairies and trolls. I help keep them hidden from the public. Make whatever they did believable to the normal person.” Stiles sits on the arm of a couch as he catches his breath.

“Why would you help us? You’re just human.” Derek says softly, looking at Stiles.

“I may be just human dude, but I’ve been keeping the supernatural community safe for years. Rumors of werewolves were all around but they kept hidden more than any other creature. Maybe it’s because they’ve been hunted the most, or maybe the Twilight effect. Anyway, you don’t deserve to be treated like sideshow freaks or less than normal.” Stiles explains.

At those words, it is as if the world fell away and only Stiles and Derek existed. Without thinking, Derek takes a step closer to the human, only to jerk back when Peter speaks. 

“Lovely story I’m sure. Now if we could just-” Peter glares as he’s interrupted.

“Hey wait, why is no one surprised? Scott, how do you know about werewolves?” Stiles looks at his friend curiously.

“Because I am one?” Scott says.

Stiles sputters, “What?! When did that happen?” 

“It was after you left Beacon Hills. I was around 16 and stupid. The lacrosse team had a bonfire in the woods and I was drunk and careless, wandered off from the group. There must have been a rogue alpha in the woods that night because I was bit by something. The Hales hadn’t returned yet but Danny was a pretty good wingman and together we figured it out. I didn’t tell my mom until later. It was another reason I felt so guilty about the SAT’s. I was already lying to her so much.” Scott says, resigned.

“Let me guess your out-of-town motorcycle race just happened to coincide with a full moon?” Stiles asks.

Scott blushes. “Yeah, there was a pack passing through, the only nomadic pack I’ve met. I wanted to learn as much as I could from them. Because as good as Danny is with researching, some things just have to be experienced first-hand. I got caught up in the whole thing and missed the test. I didn’t know if we were going ‘reveal’ ourselves tonight. So I used the motorcycle cover story.” 

Kira pipes up. “I’m not surprised because I’m a kitsune.”

“Dude a fox spirit? Wicked cool. How many tails?” Stiles looks like a puppy with all the supernaturals in the room, Derek observes.

Kira beams at the question. “Only 4 for now. I’m hoping to have my 5th by the end of this year. I’m being blackmailed because Peter found out how old I really am. One of the kitsune’s traits is long life.” 

“Yes, I was doing some research on something at the library and came across an image of the lovely Ms. Yukimura here. I thought initially it was her great-grandmother. The Yukimura’s had lived in Beacon for some generations. Then one night in town at a bar I see young Kira here stumbling out of the bar, aura just shining. I knew then it was her in the picture.” Peter seems proud of his discovery. Derek rolls his eyes behind his uncle’s head.

Kira responds, “I like Beacon Hills, so I gave Peter the money he asked for. I’ve had to move around quite a bit because after a while people notice that I don’t age as I should. This seemed easier than packing up and moving one more time.” 

Stiles is excited by this reveal. “Wait, so what about Old Mrs. Yukimura? I remember I used to be terrified to trick or treat at that house on Halloween. Was that you? Can you reverse age? Is that a power you have?”

“No of course not! That was actually my grandmother. After some time my family just moves to another place for a while till we are forgotten. Then we move back when not many remember us. Always living on the edge of town so people don’t really notice if we are there or not.” Kira explains.

Stiles sends a resentful look towards Peter. “God you are such a cliché. You blackmailed her because she is a fox? And you are a wolf.”

Derek lets out a snort at that. He had told Peter the same thing and had felt the sting of Peter’s punishment for days afterwards. 

Rolling her eyes at them all, Lydia chimes in. “I know about the supernatural because of my business. We get a number of interesting clientele. I try and please everyone.” Lydia turns to Jackson at that point. “I’m assuming you are being blackmailed because you have used my services, correct? It wouldn’t be proper for a man running for Senator to have used an escort service, even if she just was an escort and not something more. That doesn’t tell us if or how you know about the supernatural though.”

Jackson opens his mouth to deny it but snaps it shut just as fast. “Fine, yes, I did use your services. My father was furious when he found out and banned me from using them ever again. We managed to bury the evidence and paid off any potential witness, or at least I thought we did. As for the second part, you see a lot of strange things in the service. I was sent to military school at a very young age, and after graduation I joined up. I hated my father for sending me to that school, but I actually loved serving in the military. You see a lot of things overseas. Some things I want to forget, some things I never will be able to. Like a soldier lifting a car off a trapped squad mate. It’s not a thing one talks about back at base you know? Most of us were just grateful to be alive. What or who you are doesn’t matter when people are trying to kill you. When I returned to the States, I wanted to re-enlist but my dad wanted me to run for office instead. Threatened to cut me off if I didn’t, and even being a trained soldier I still couldn’t stand up for myself in front of him. I figured even if I was stuck in politics maybe I could use it to fight for more veteran’s rights. I couldn’t find a girlfriend because no one really wants to date someone that wakes screaming at night. So yes, I hired one of your girls so it would look like I was ‘normal’, that I had a social life. Is that explanation good enough for you, Ms. Martin?” 

The room is momentarily stunned by Jackson’s frankness. No one knows where to look or how to break the mood.

“It is a noble cause, Jackson,” Allison says softly. “I wish my family did more for good like yours. My family, we… Argent is silver in French. We are werewolf hunters, it is our legacy. I don’t want it though, I never have from the first time they revealed everything to me. My Aunt went after the Hales because she had been taught to hate. My father and I always suspected her of starting the Hale fire but we never had any proof. I thought maybe if I stayed in the family long enough I could get them to change. The gun and drug running wasn’t always a thing. There was a time my family was respectable, but they let their hatred and fear overtake them.” 

From his place by the fireplace, Peter starts to clap slowly. “Well done everyone. I’m glad we all shared our feelings. Now we can all gather in a circle and sing kumbaya or I can tell you your true purpose for being here. Derek, if you will?” 

Derek pulls a key from his inside breast pocket and unlocks a cabinet near the door. He reluctantly removes a packet from the shelf and hands it to Peter, wishing he could be doing anything but that at the moment. 

“Now, here in this file is the proof of my blackmailing you. Every wire transfer, every text message, every email, any interaction we had. If you want it to go away, you just have survive tonight. For those still alive in the morning, I will make it all go away.” Peter says, waving the packet towards the others.

“Alive in the morning? Do you have a secret cache of serial killers in the basement? What is stopping us from just catching some zzz’s and leaving in the AM?” Stiles demands. 

Smiling smugly, Peter responds, “Each other. You all just aired your dirty laundry in front of everyone. What is going to stop any one of the others from telling the world your dirty secrets?” 

“Hey wait a second, what about Stiles? We don’t know why he is here. Why would you be stupid enough to bribe an FBI agent, Mr. Hale?” asks Lydia.

Stiles shrugs. “It’s simple really. Most people at the FBI think I’m a crackpot anyway, but I had to do some not-in-the-rule-books things to cover up some of the more unexplainable crimes. Destroy and misplace evidence, misleading my superiors. Out of curiosity Peter, what case clued you into my dealings?”

“Cheyenne Mountain.” Peter opens and closes the flap on the packet, looking bored.

Stiles nods at that. “Yeah, that went over my security clearance way fast. I still have no idea what they do down there. It’s really not that big a deal; not as important as Peter trying to set us up so we murder each other.” 

“Which we aren’t going to do,” states Allison. 

Peter points the packet in her direction. “Tisk tisk Ms. Argent. I would have thought a werewolf hunter would be itching at the chance to exterminate my kind.” 

“I already told you I’m not like them.” Allison says decisively.

“Peter is just trying to get us riled up. Calm down everyone.” Kira softly stated. 

Peter lays the packet down on the table in front and continues. “Now I’m sure you realized when you got your dinner invitations that you were all given pseudonyms. My dear nephew here loved the game Clue as a child. So I thought it would make a wonderful theme for tonight. You may have noticed that most of you have something in common with your characters from the movie. I thought it would give a more genuine feel to this evening. And though some of you need no weapon other than what you walked in with, I took the liberty to gather some things to make our little reenactment more faithful to the game. Derek, the weapons please.” Derek walks over to the cabinet and started distributing the items. He hands Lydia a candlestick, Allison a noose, Stiles a baseball bat, Jackson a wrench, Scott a gun, and Kira a knife. 

“You know in the movie Peter, you end up dead first. Are you sure you wanna go down this path?” asks Stiles.

“I’d be more worried about your own neck Mr. Stilinski. You are one of the only humans here.” Peter growls.

“Are you threatening me?” Stiles blinks, unconvinced.

“Oh, you will know when I threaten someone.” Peter stands, starting towards the human.

Derek quickly stands between them and speaks. “Peter, enough. Let’s just get this started. Anymore chit chat, and I’ll let them kill you first.” 

“They could try.” Peter replies, flashing his red eyes at the group. “Very well. How do I want to start? Oh yes. Let the games begin.” With a smile, a clap of thunder is heard and the lights go out.

*** *** *** *** *** 

There are several loud bangs and the sound of some furniture overturning. Stiles hears a short scream to his left and reaches a hand out to comfort the person, before he realizes that the only person to his left is Jackson. The lights come back on with a flicker and he takes in the scene around him. 

Allison has taken a protective stance in front of Lydia while Scott seems to be guarding Kira, who is turning the power back on the room with her fingertips. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I can only do one room at a time. If I try to do the whole house, I might fry the circuits. I’m still not that great at manipulating my fox fire.”

“No Kira, this is great. Thank you.” Scott says comfortingly. 

Stiles raises his eyebrow on the two pairs in front of him; he will have to keep an eye on them all. Looking around, he spies Jackson slowly standing up from behind a couch but doesn’t see Peter anywhere. _Changing up the script,_ he thinks. Out loud, he says, “So, anyone have a guess on where Peter went? Do werewolves have enhanced senses? Can any of you hear him or anything?” 

“Yes Stiles, we have enhanced senses. Sight, smell, healing, and hearing.” Scott informs him. 

“Hearing?” Stiles squeaks. He remembers the comments he had made during dinner and wants to die a little inside. “Right then, so do you need to get on all fours and sniff around? Do we care where he went? Should we try and find a way out of here instead? If only my pops was still the sheriff here.” A slap on the back of his head shakes him out of his mini rant. “Ow jeez, what the hell Derek?” 

“You know what that was for. I can’t sense my uncle in the house. He must be using some type of magic to cover his tracks, because I didn’t hear him leave either.” Derek looks to Scott and Kira for confirmation of what they sense.

Both nod, then Kira says, “You should get your cook in here. We should probably stick together.” A crash, then a howl are heard from the kitchen, startling everyone. 

“Boyd!” Erica screams, rushing towards the kitchen from across the room. Derek rushes out behind her and the rest of the group follows him. When Stiles and the others reach the kitchen they see her frantically shaking Boyd, who is collapsed to the ground. “Boyd! Boyd, you have to get up! Get up Boyd! Derek why isn’t he moving?!”

Derek kneels by Boyd’s other side and pulls him away from the pantry where he was propped up. The group sees a knife sticking out of his back. With a snarl, Derek slowly pulls the knife out and sniffs it. “Wolfsbane” he mutters, “Why would Peter have wolfsbane here?”

Dropping the knife to ground, he whirls around to Allison with werewolf speed. “What have you done, Argent?”

“You think I did this?” Allison backs up, dumbfounded.

“The knife is covered in wolfsbane. Why would we have a poison for wolves in a house full of them?” Derek’s eyes flash bright blue and his teeth drop.

“Most packs I know have a stockpile of it to use as an antidote in case they get poisoned.” Allison points to Kira, not breaking Derek’s gaze. “Anyway, Peter gave the knife to Kira, not me!” 

Before Derek could get into Kira’s face, Scott yells, “Enough already! We need to focus on the how first, now the who!” 

“Why didn’t we feel it Derek?” Erica asks in a small voice, still kneeling on the ground next to Boyd. “Peter said losing a pack member was like losing a limb. But I don’t feel anything. Just this empty space where he should be. I can’t feel you either! Why can’t I sense anyone?”

“I don’t know. I can’t feel anyone either, pack or no pack.” Grabbing her by the arm, Derek pulls her up. “We need to get back to the parlor. Something’s not right. Leave him here for now. We don’t know if it is safe to move him.” 

Erica makes a noise of protest. Softly, Derek runs his hand through her hair to calm her. “I know it’s hard. But, be strong for now. We can fall apart later, okay?” Erica gives a sniffle and soft nod before grabbing Derek’s arm to be led out. The group silently follows the pair out of the kitchen.

Stiles lingers back and takes a closer look at Boyd’s body. He can see black ooze seeping out of the wound, but no other suspicious marks. No claw marks or puncture wounds, no signs of a struggle at all. If werewolves had enhanced senses, then how did Boyd not hear his attacker coming? And with an accelerated healing ability, how did one stab wound take him down so suddenly? Raising to his feet, Stiles hurries after the others; it wouldn’t due to be late back with tensions already so high. 

Ducking back into the parlor, Stiles speaks, “Okay first things first what do you mean you can’t sense anyone Derek?”

“The pack bond isn’t there. I should be able to feel Erica and Boyd, feel Peter as the alpha. Usually there is a tether, a small thread, linking us. Instead, it’s like this empty void. All of my senses are dulled too. It’s almost like being underwater or in a vacuum; everything is all muffled and hazy. Peter had to have done something, either to the house or to us specifically. I haven’t sensed anything different in the house though. I think if Peter had had something magical done to the house, I would feel the change. And no new guests have come by to disrupt the flow. It doesn’t add up.” 

“Okay, so we are thinking something magical, done to either the beings or the house. Kira, what happened to the knife?” Stiles asks.

“I don’t know.” Kira says. “I took it when Peter handed it to me. But when the lights went out, I must have dropped it when I reached for my katana before realizing I didn’t bring it with me. It was so dark and I couldn’t see right; it was like having my eyes closed for a few seconds.” Her hands open and close reflexively. 

Jackson rolls his eyes. “Werewolves were one thing, but now magic? I don’t know what you Hales are playing at but I want out of the house now. Call off your fucking dogs and let us out,” he demands.

“I agree,” says Lydia. “I don’t want to be here when the police come to investigate a dead body. How did the dogs get loose from their chains anyway? They were tied up on the front porch when we got her, but then they were here at these doors when Jackson tried to run away.” She gestures to the French doors off the parlor. 

“Peter said he would let them off when he came in the house for dinner. Mulder and Scully aren’t really that vicious, more scare dogs than attack dogs.” Derek says. _Mulder and Scully? Be still my beating heart!_ Stiles thinks. “They just really hate Peter, so when they see him they tend to go ape shit. I can bring them inside so you can leave safely. You can leave, this whole evening was a mistake, and I knew it, but I couldn’t say no.”

“Why not?” Stiles asks curiously. 

“He’s the alpha Stiles I can’t.” Derek shakes his head resignedly.

“So, what, he says jump, you say how high?” Turning to Scott Stiles asks in disbelief, “Is this true, Scott? You can just be ordered around by your alpha? You have no choice by to obey them?” 

“Often betas do have to listen to their alpha; he or she is in charge. I am an alpha though. Some stuff went down a few years ago and I became a true alpha. But I don’t order my betas around; I like to give people a choice, man. Besides, my beta Liam wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” Scott scratches his head, almost an ashamed-like pose to his body.

“Dude, you are an alpha like Peter? Awesome! So can you do anything special like-” Stiles crowds in on Scott, ready to poke and prod him.

“Can we get back on track? I want to leave now, Mr. Hale,” commands Lydia.

“Of course.” Derek leaves the room first to unlock the front door as the others drop their Clue-inspired weapons on the coffee table and exit. Kira and Scott look unsure about this plan but follow the group to the front door. Ever the gentleman, Derek helps the ladies into their coats.

“Hey, what about me, Jeeves? You aren’t going to help me with my things?” Stiles bats his eyelashes at Derek and smirks as the man fumbles and blushes. 

Grinning widely, Stiles opens the front door and looks around for the hounds. He takes a few steps out onto the porch and yells over his shoulder, “Coast is clear for anyone that wants to go.” 

“You aren’t going Stiles?” Scott asks, slipping his jacket on.

“Dude, there is a dead body in the house, and I’m a federal agent. I kinda can’t leave it here. But we should totally get together while I’m in town. Catch up and shit.” Stiles bounces to his toes, then rolls back on his heels over and over.

“Sure man, that sounds great,” says Scott as he walks to the door before being thrust back inside with a flash of blue light.

“What the hell!” Both Stiles and Scott exclaim.

“Mountain ash,” says Derek softly, standing frozen by the coat rack. “Peter enclosed us in the mansion. Anyone supernatural is trapped.” 

“So what, only us humans can leave? Sounds good to me,” says Jackson as he steps over the threshold.

“No.” Stiles stands firm and shoves Jackson back in the house. “If they can’t leave, then we don’t leave either.” 

“And what, are you going to stop me?” Jackson places a hand on Stiles’ chest, ready to push him aside.

“No, but they may.” Stiles gestures to Derek and Erica, flanking Jackson with their claws out.

“Stiles is right,” pipes up Scott. “We should stay together, figure this out. Peter may have more traps waiting for us outside even if you did break the ash barrier.” 

“This is ridiculous! I’m calling the police!” Jackson whips out his cell, only to drop it in surprise. “No service! What the hell?” 

“Peter could be jamming the signal or it could just be the storm. You have a landline, Derek?” The werewolf nods and Stiles continues, “How’s this: we take a look around to try and figure out what Peter is playing at. If we don’t find anything in an hour, we either call out for backup if Peter hasn’t cut the line, or try and send someone for help. Sound good?” Everyone nods. “Okay, let’s go back to the parlor. We can form groups there; split up and search this place.” 

When they reach the parlor, Stiles turns to Derek. “Is there any place in particular your uncle would hide? You don’t happen to have hidden passages, like in the movie Clue do you?” Derek blushes at bit at that part. “Holy shit, you do! No way!” 

“They are there in case of hunters. We wanted to have a way to escape, unlike when the fire... It doesn’t matter why we have them.” Derek shakes his head as though to clear it. “He is smart; Peter will have blocked them by now.” 

Stiles questions, “How many other surprises does this night have in store for us? Are we going to have visitors like stranded motorists? How much like the movie will this play out?” 

“I don’t know,” Derek says. “Peter, he, he didn’t discuss it all with me. Just said we had to have this party.” 

Narrowing his eyes at him, Stiles realizes something. “You are being blackmailed too, aren’t you? By your own uncle. What did you do? Do you have a secret wife? Were you an underwear model in college?” He watches Derek grit his teeth at that one. 

“No.” Derek denies.

“No to which one?” He hears a low growl at that. “Kidding, kidding. Okay so we split up and..” 

Just then, the doorbell rings throughout the house and everyone jumps. “I’m taking it that you lot weren’t expecting anyone?” A quick shake of heads confirms that. “Right then. Jeeves, you should probably get the door.” 

Derek’s eyes flash blue as he passes him and growls out, “No one leaves this room.” 

“You probably shouldn’t tease him so much Stiles,” chides Scott. 

“Yeah...but it’s so fun Scotty.” Stiles grins back at his friend.

*** *** *** *** ***

Derek walks to the front door, cursing Stiles under his breath. Never has a human got under his skin so fast before. He doesn’t know how to deal with the flirting, the casual innuendos. This night wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Then again, Derek has no idea how this night was supposed to end. He initially thought that Peter invited them here to get a final large chunk of money on them; maybe some leverage and secrets on others so he could continue to do what Peter did best - make people miserable. 

Peter had made life living hell for those living in the mansion. He told Erica and Boyd they couldn’t marry because he needed Erica available to be married off for alliance, not to mention the constant berating Derek himself received for being dumb enough to trust Kate all those years ago. Reaching the front door, he hesitates. Normally, he would be able to sense someone coming up to the house, but now he feels only empty space. It was almost like he was a human that could randomly spout fangs. Pausing slightly, Derek reaches for the knob and opens the door to a drenched, slightly cherubic, tall man. “Can I help you sir?” he asks, praying that the man wouldn’t answer he had car trouble. 

“Yeah, so sorry to disturb you.” The man says. “My name is Isaac. I saw the light, and my car broke down on the road. My cell doesn’t seem to be working. You wouldn’t happen to have a phone I could borrow?” 

Derek barely resists the urge to slam his head against the wall. “Of course. Please come in out of the rain.” He smiles in what he hopes is brightly at the man, whose eyes widen as he takes a step back. Ok, so maybe the smile is not as bright as he hopes. 

Shaking it off, the man steps in. Derek asks, “Your coat?” as he holds his hand out

Isaac responds, “Thanks. Sorry for interrupting your party, I see the cars outside.” 

“It’s no trouble. Please, come this way.” Derek leads him into the study, where there is absolutely not a phone, but the room is soundproof, so the stranger would have no idea what the rest of them are up to. He prays the man would remain safe and wouldn’t call him up on kidnapping charges later. “Phone is in the corner. Take all the time you need.” With that, Derek closes the door and locks it, muffling any protests the man may have. 

Trudging back to the parlor, Derek thinks, _What even was my life anymore? Stiles is so going to mock this party for actually having a stranded motorist._ He slinks in as quietly as he can, hoping no one would notice him. But no luck, every head turns right towards him.

“Who was at the door, Derek?” Erica demands immediately. 

Sighing deeply, he mutters, “A motorist.” 

“A motorist?” Erica repeats loudly. 

_Fuck._

Stiles’ head snaps up. “You are kidding, right? Or is there actually a motorist at the door?” 

“I locked him in the study. It’s soundproof. Peter did, does his business dealings in there. We can search the rest of the house now; the guy should be safe.” Derek motions towards the hall.

“You kidnapped someone?” Kira asks.

“Oh, was I supposed to invite him in here? Yes please, come in sir. We are trying to figure out who just murdered a member of my family. Oh by the way, most of us are creatures of the night? Would you like a coffee?” Derek sneers back.

“He has a point,” Stiles adds. “So, we should split up and search the place. Come back here when we are done. You find anything, just yell loudly I guess?” 

“I volunteer to go with Lydia,” states Jackson. 

“Ugh please. I’m going with Allison. I at least want someone not afraid to fight with me.” Lydia smiles brightly at Allison.

“Hey I’m a soldier I’m-” Jackson stumbles forward, hand outstretched.

“Enough, Jackson. Allison should stick with Lydia. I want at least a wolf or someone that knows how to fight one on each team. Jackson will be okay with Erica, she is more than capable.” states Derek.

“Hey, I don’t want to be stuck with him! You can be with the blonde playboy.“ Erica protests.

“Erica, please.” Derek pleads with her.

“No Derek, he wanted to leave! Didn’t even care that my fiancé was murdered while he sat rooms away.” Erica steps forward into the other werewolf’s face, her own stretching as her features begin to form below the surface. 

Derek pulls her aside in the room, speaking to her calmly. “I know that, Erica. But you are the only one I trust to keep tabs on him. We need to make sure he won’t turn tail. You can do that better than anyone else.” 

“Ugh, fine.” She turns to face Jackson over her shoulder. “But one step out of line buster, and you wish you wouldn’t have.” 

Jackson’s mouth opens and then shuts again as he thinks better of it. 

“I want to stick with Scott, if you don’t mind?” asks Kira. 

Derek nods in agreement before a voice pops up. “Hey that leaves you and me Jeeves!” 

_Oh crap._ “Don’t call me that.” He looks at Stiles, hoping his glare is simple without threatening.

“No prob dude.” Stiles says, grinning.

Gritting his teeth, Derek growls out, “Not that either.” 

“Hey don’t be such a sourwolf.” Stiles is clearly having fun with these. Derek can feel the shift bleeding into his face and wills it back. 

“Okay okay, no nicknames. So, how do we do this?” The room can feel it as Stiles goes from teasing to all business.

“Erica and Jackson, search the tower and attic. Kira and Scott, go to the second floor. Allison and Lydia, search this floor. Stiles and I will take the basement.” Derek says, gesturing to each couple as he gives assignments.

“What about the lack of lights?” asks Jackson.

“You all have smart phones, most of them have a flashlight function.” Derek pulls his out of his pocket and waves it around.

“Unless you have your own personal kitsune.” With a goofy grin, Scott extends his arm to Kira, who giggles but takes it. 

The pair leaving spurs the others into action and they all leave either with a shove (Erica and Jackson) or with haughty confidence (Lydia and Allison). It leaves Derek staring dumbly at Stiles, unsure on how to precede. 

“So…. Derek. I’m totally letting you guide the way. Your house, your rules, buddy.” Giving him his best eye roll, Derek leads the way to the lower levels of the house. 

*** *** *** *** ***

“Ow! Goddammit you she devil, let go of my suit jacket! It’s Armani,” Jackson whines, trying to remove Erica’s vice grip on his arm. 

“I’m trying to keep you alive, you jackass.” Erica says, pulling him forward.

“By cutting off the circulation to my arm?” Jackson shakes his arm again.

With a huff, Erica lets go of his arm. “Fine, but keep up, pretty boy.” 

“Why did he send us to the tower and attic anyway?” Jackson asks, as they walk on.

“Derek probably didn’t want the others to be traumatized by what is up there.” Erica winks at him.

Jackson stops suddenly and screeches, “Wait, what!” 

Stepping forward until she was inches away from his face, Erica purrs out, “My collection of sex toys in the attic. Peter thought it best Boyd and I have some private space.” 

“You need a whole attic for your sex toys?” Jackson says, eyes bugging out.

With a sly smile, Erica leans in even closer. “If you want the space to play properly, you do. Now come on you prude, let’s get going.” She laughs and slaps his ass as she passes him.

 

*** *** *** *** ***

“So Scott, what grade do you teach?” asks Kira as they made their way upstairs.

“Oh, I teach gym at the local high school. I’m also the lacrosse coach. What do you do?” Scott says, looking sideways at her.

“I’m a graphic novelist. I do the illustrations for this novel series.” 

“Graphic novels like superheroes?” Scott asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Kinda yeah. My book is about a woman that can hear ghosts but not see them. So she tries to help them carry out their last wishes, figure out who killed them. But then she realizes that she could do more with her gift and uses it to fight crime.” Kira explains.

“That sounds cool. You have a copy I could read?” 

“Oh yeah, sure. Umm, I have a copy in my car I think. Or we could maybe meet later for coffee or whatever? If we get out of this, I mean. Not that we won’t. Just…” She blushes as he meets her eyes.

“Sure. That’d be cool.” They both look away. “Hey, how many rooms does this house have anyway?”

*** *** *** *** ***

“So Allison, after this is all over, you wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?” 

“WHAT!” Allison practically screams, staring at Lydia.

“Hey you got the looks, could probably knock a guy into next week if he tried anything. I could use a girl like you.” Lydia says, walking on. “At least consider coming to teach some of my girls self-defense. Not that they aren’t strong, but some of these men I tell you.”

“Self-defense I could do, the rest of it not so much. It would remind me too much of my own family trying to pimp me out. Not sure when I could do it though. If the investigation into my family breaks, I might have to enter the witness protection program.” 

“Hmm, you might be worth going on the run with.” Lydia eyes Allison up and down. “Now come on, I want to finish searching this floor. The drink cart has the makings for a Manhattan and I’m thirsty.” Allison follows Lydia down the hall, with a hint of red in her cheeks.

*** *** *** *** ***

“So Derek, what do you actually do around here if you don’t buttle all day? Do you have an actual job? Is your job being a werewolf? If your uncle is the alpha, are you like his second? When did you become a werewolf? Oh, can you be born a werewolf? Were you? Why are your eyes blue? Did you name the dogs outside? What episode of X-Files is your favorite? Are you a nerd about other things as well? DC or Marvel, Tolkien or Rowling? How big is the basement we are investigating anyhow? Why do you even have one since we live in California?” At that last statement, Stiles seems to finally run out of breath. He blushes as he notices Derek’s stare. “Sorry about that. I tend to ramble all the time, but especially when I’m nervous. We should probably get going.” He motions down the hallway ahead of them.

Derek softens his look a little and answers, “Going for my Masters in History, no, no, yes, a while ago, yes and yes, because, yes, First Person Shooter, yes, Marvel movies and comics but DC television, Tolkien, big, for the full moon so we have a place to chain un-anchored were-creatures.” His voice and face are gruff again. “Now move before the others get back.” He stalks off down the hall.

Following behind Derek _(and bless that view)_ never did Stiles think that A. Derek was actually paying attention to his ramble, or that B. He would actually respond. 

“I like Unusual Suspects myself. Used to watch the show with my dad. He loved it. Did you watch it with your family?” Stiles says, trying to keep the conversation going.

Sighing deeply, Derek turns to face Stiles at what Stiles hopes is the door to the basement. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Sometimes. You could make me.” He wiggles his eyebrows in what he hopes was a seductive, teasing manner. Derek leans in and Stiles’ breath hitches. Was he going to…

“Out of anywhere in the house, Peter most likely fled down here. It’s where we keep a lot of our weapons, so he could be down here, and fully armed at that. Now shut up.” In no way should that speech be a turn on, but God help him it is. 

*** *** *** *** ***

Stiles is exasperating, mouthy, intrusive, sarcastic, and if Derek let himself admit it, sexy as hell. He doesn’t know why he answered any of Stiles’ inquires but there is just something about him. For the first time since the fire, he actually wants to tell someone about himself. Tell Stiles about curling up with his dad and turning off all the lights to watch the X-Files. How it felt to run on the full moon with his mother. Playing tea party with Laura and Cora, protesting but secretly loving all the attention. Sleeping in a pile after the full moon run then waking up early to cook breakfast with his Nona. Stuff he has never even told Erica and Boyd. If Stiles was a good listener, and all signs points to that, even if the man spend most of the time talking himself, Derek could even tell him about Kate and the fire. There is a chance Stiles won’t look at him with disgust for getting his whole family killed. None of that will matter if they don’t make it through the night alive. 

They slowly walk down the stairs, letting Derek’s phone guide the way. He wonders just where Peter is hiding and pauses to listen. 

“Can you hear anything, Derek?”

“Just you.” Derek refrains from rolling his eyes.

“Right. Well, should we split up?” 

“Are you crazy? I told everyone to stick together.” 

“I’m a trained federal agent Hale, I can take care of myself.” Just then they both hear a loud clang. In an instant, Derek has Stiles against the wall, covering him with his body. "Hey, what are you..." 

"Shhhhh." It was then that he realizes how closely pressed together they are. He can see the amber flecks in Stiles’ eyes, count the moles on his cheeks. In the next breath, they hear a hiss and a whooshing sound to the left.

“That’s the gas to the fireplace in the parlor! The evidence!” They both scramble up the stairs to see who had turned it on. 

Rushing into the parlor, they arrive just in time to see the last of the files turn into embers. “No one is here, Derek. Who would have had the time to light this and then get out before we arrived? They would have had to know you would hear it and come back.”

“Peter would have the speed necessary, Scott too, maybe Kira as well, it depends on how well her abilities are refined.” Derek’s eye focus on the burning embers, definitely not looking at Stiles.

“All of them have the motive; no one wants this stuff getting out. We should turn off the fireplace, get back to the basement. We can gage people’s reactions to the missing evidence when we all gather again.”

With a hesitant nod, Derek agrees. He feels a bit weird letting a human boss him around but something about it just feels right. More like a partnership than whatever relationship he has with Peter as his alpha. 

*** *** *** *** *** 

Back down in the basement there really aren’t that many rooms to check. Stiles can see some thick chains bolted to the corner in a room with a heavy steel door; in another room, shelves of what seems like herbs and old dusty tomes are sitting on shelves. “So nothing seems out of the ordinary right?” 

“Not that I can tell, I can’t tell though. I can’t smell anything, I should be able to hear your heartbeat, sense something, and I can’t. I can’t sense anything.” Derek’s breath begins to hitch and Stiles is next to him in an instant.

“Hey hey hey easy big guy, easy. Just take some breaths with me, alright? In and out.” He places a cautious hand on Derek’s shoulder. “We are going to figure this out okay? I have no intention of living under Peter’s thumb forever, and neither should you.”

Derek slides to the floor, back against a cabinet and head in his hands. “He’s the only family I have left. That’s why I’ve stayed so long. I know he has done some terrible things, but even after what I’ve done, he’s let me stay.” 

Stiles sits down next to Derek and carefully knocks his shoulder against the wolf’s. “I’m sure whatever you did wasn’t as bad as what is going on now.” 

With an anguished look on his face, Derek lifts his head. “My family, they’re dead. Because of me. I was young and stupid and fell in love. With a hunter. Allison’s aunt Kate to be precise. She said she wanted to change the family code. That us being together was the first step to changing everything. Werewolves can tell when you lie and she wasn’t. Just lying by omission. She wanted to change the code, but not for the reasons I thought. Her slaughtering almost all of my family was the first step. Three packs after ours were decimated by her and her team until they were finally stopped. It took a pack of alphas to bring her down. If I had just trusted my instincts then my family, the other families would still be alive.” His head drops back into his hands to avoid seeing Stiles’ regret. Dread fills his stomach and he squeezes his eyes shut. He knew it he never should have told him. Of course he was going to leave, why wouldn’t he?

He feels Stiles shift next to him; Derek turns his head slightly so he can peek over his arms. The last thing Derek expected to happen after his admission was for Stiles to move closer. The human kneels up next to him and cups his left cheek. The werewolf is startled into opening his eyes fully when he feels Stiles’ long fingers take his right hand and raise it to his long pale neck. He can feel the man's pulse beat strong and steady underneath his fingertips.

“1. I like to watch My Little Ponies in a furry suit. 2. I speak 5 languages including Klingon and parseltongue--” 

“I don’t--” Derek picks his head up from his knees slowly, as to not dislodge their hands.

“Shh let me finish. 3. Every cloud has a silver, neurochemical lining. 4. If there wasn’t a dead body upstairs and the rest of us likely being hunted, I would totally kiss you right now.” Derek hitches his breath at that one. “Now tell me Derek, did you feel my heart blip when I said any of those?”

Shaking his head, Derek hoarsely says, “No but.”

“But nothing Derek. I just told you three lies and a truth and you couldn’t tell which was which. I was trained on how to lie, just like I bet Kate was. If someone wants something bad enough, they will do anything to get it. If Kate hadn’t seduced you, she would have found another way in. She wanted to kill your family, I don’t think she really cared how she achieved that goal, just that she did. It wasn’t your fault. Now I never met your Mom but if she was anything like mine she would give you a slap upside the head and tell you to stop being a martyr _kochanie._ ” 

Derek slowly blinks up at Stiles. “Kochanie? Is that your real name?” 

Stiles laughs then, throwing his head back and arching that long, lithe torso of his. “That’s what you took from that speech? No not my name, just a Polish endearment my mom called me. My name has far more consonants in it.” 

He watches Stiles stand and extend an arm to help him up. When he reaches up to grab it, he notices a strange symbol on a pillar behind them. “What the hell is that?” He stands and walks towards it slowly in case there was another trap lying in wait. Stiles walks over behind him and reaches a hand out to touch. 

Derek grabs his hand and pulls it back. “Do you always try and touch potentially dangerous symbols?” 

Sheepishly, Stiles shrugs, “Kinda yeah.” 

“I’ve never seen that symbol or anything like it before; we should tell the others. Take a picture with your phone.” The click of the fake shutter echoes in the basement just as a shriek is heard from above. 

“The girls!” They race up the stairs to find Allison and Lydia standing in front of the study. More footsteps echo around them as the others come pounding down the floors.

“What is it?” Derek slows in front of the open door. “How did you get the door…” Looking in, they can see a body lying on the ground, pool of blood forming below him. There is a bloody baseball bat lying next to the stranded motorist Derek had locked in here only an hour or so ago. 

“Hey, who screamed? What’s going on? Oh my God!” Scott rushes up to them at the door. “I thought you said you locked the guy in the study? That he was safe, Derek?” 

“He was. I did. No one should have been able to get in.” Derek stares down at the body, trying to make sense of it all. 

“Isaac. His name was Isaac,” says Allison softly. “He was my driver. One of the only ones I trusted. I told him I didn’t need him tonight. He must have followed me here.”

The doorbell rings, adding to the noise. “Shit shit shit. I bet that’s the cop,” says Stiles, dragging a hand across his face as he tries to order everyone back into the parlor. 

“What are we just supposed to remain calm in there? Hope that no more of us ended up dead?” hisses out Lydia. 

“I don’t know, okay?” Derek replies. They all hear the bell chime again as well as a muffled curse from the porch. “Just give me a minute to get whoever this is inside, since they won’t go away obviously.” 

“Oh no, I am handling this one myself, Hale.” Striding to the door, Lydia opens it. A tall blonde man in a deputy’s uniform is waiting on the doorstep. His eyes widen when he sees Lydia and he clears his throat nervously.

“Hello miss. I’m Deputy Parrish. Are you the lady of the house?” he asks. 

Shoving her aside, Derek reaches the doorway. “No she isn’t. How may I help you?” 

“We got a call about a possible disturbance in the area. Then I found an abandoned car along the road. Funny thing is when I went to call it in, my radio wasn’t working. Cell phone either. You folks know anything about that?” Parrish says.

“Nope, we are having a private event now, so if you wouldn’t mind.” Derek tries to shut the door in the man’s face, but the young deputy slaps a hand on the door. 

“You are acting mighty suspicious there. Mind if I come in and take a look around?” Parrish puts a foot inside the house and tries to peer around the door.

Derek feels a sudden warmth against his back and knows that it’s Stiles behind him. “In fact, he does mind. Without his permission you can’t enter his house without a warrant.” 

“Oh for god sakes.” Derek suddenly feels the door being pulled open and Lydia shoves in front of him. 

“Jordan, so good to see you again. Forgive the men, they are being overprotective nimrods. Do come in. We are just having a role play period party and these two are just taking it a bit too serious.” 

“Umm.” The deputy sends a nervous glance towards Derek, still unsure if he was being played or not. But short of knocking the man unconscious, Derek isn’t sure what they could do. Just then, he feels something press in his hand behind him and recognizes it as the wrench. Giving the man his most charming smile, Derek moves to the side to let him in. As soon as the deputy passes him, he quickly strikes him in the back of the head, knocking the man out. 

Lydia rolls her eyes at him. “Took you long enough. Where do we put him?” Pausing, he considers it. It’s not like the house isn’t big enough, but he just wants to try and contain the situation. He would place him in the library, but he doesn’t want blood all over the books and the Oriental rug in there is one of his favorites.

“The media room will be fine.” Scott and Jackson drag the body to the room Derek points them to. When he opens the door, they dump Parrish unceremoniously onto the carpet.

Scott calls out, “Dude! This place is awesome! Stiles, come check this out. He has like a whole home theater in here! You should have had dinner in here. Much better than that stuffy dining room.” 

When Stiles reaches the entrance to the media room, his jaw drops. “Holy shit, is that a Han Solo carbonite coffee table!?!” He races in, completely bypassing the sets of recliners and pool table, and skids to a halt in front of the table. “Oh baby where have you been all my life?” Kneeling down, he starts petting it reverently.

“Uh Stiles, what are you doing man?” Scott stares down at his friend.

“Carbonite Scotty, carbonite.” Stiles continues petting the table, leaning his head on it to snuggle.

“Sure?” Scott replies, cocking his head like a dog. 

“Han Solo? Star Wars?” Stiles looks up at him.

“Oh, those movies with Captain Kirk?” Scott says, still puzzled.

Stiles stands and grabs Scott’s shoulders to shake him. “Who are you and what have you done with my childhood best friend?”

“Uhhhh” Scott looks around the room for any help.

Just then, Kira enters the room and squeals. “Han Solo!!!!” 

Beaming at her, Stiles responds, “I know right? I think I want to stay here forever. Hey Derek! You wouldn’t happen to have the Death Star fire pit, would you?” 

“It’s on backorder.” Derek mumbles, looking at the ground.

Stiles swoons. “Marry me.” Derek flushes full red at this.

“Guys, can we flirt later?” Lydia clips out. Stiles flushes red to match Derek. “We have two dead bodies and an unconscious cop. What are we going to do?”

Clearing his throat, Derek responds, “Stiles and I found some sort of symbol down in the basement on a pillar. I don’t recognize them though.” 

Stiles flips out his phone to show the picture to the group. Allison pipes up, “I think I recognize the symbol as Enochian, but I’m not sure.” Everyone looks at each other puzzled. “If this is some sort of magic, then they would place symbols like this at key points in the house,” Allison continues. “Everyone, search the house again. Look for any strange writing or pictures,” she commands.

“But what about the cop?” Kira asks. “And how does Lydia know him?” 

Rolling her eyes, Lydia explains, “Sometimes men get a little rough with my girls. It pays to have an off-duty cop that can process charges discreetly.” 

“It doesn’t matter how she knows him. If we leave him here alone, there is a good chance he will end up dead like the others.” Allison says.

“Stiles and I will remain here. We already searched the basement. I just have to check the library. There be some texts that can help us.”

“Everyone spread out; take one section of the house and see what you can find.” Allison commands.

Stiles watches everybody leave the room. Lydia and Allison link arms before they go, Scott offers his arm again to Kira, Erica grabs Jackson by the tie and drags him out of the room. He hears Derek snort in amusement beside him. Sharing a conspirator smirk, he asks, “So that’s clearly not a love match. You put them together to distract Erica?” 

Derek nods, “Yeah, the only thing she likes more than Boyd is intimidating others. Before my uncle turned her, she had pretty severe epilepsy and no self-confidence. Now, she is the most confident person I know and doesn’t take shit from anyone.” They slide out into the hall and walk to what Stiles assumes is the library. Derek stops in front and reaches for the doorknob. “Let me check it first.” He tries to turn the knob, only to find it locked.

“You lock your library?” Stiles questions.

“No, I’ve never locked it before. I don’t even know where the key would be.” Derek says, looking at the door bewildered. 

“Peter is either hiding something in there, or he wanted us to leave Parrish alone.” 

“Or both.” With twin looks of horror, they run back to the media room. Arriving, they see it was already too late. The lead pipe lay in a puddle of Parrish’s blood and his head is at an unnatural angle. 

“Shit shit shit. We were barely gone for a few minutes. How is he doing this?” Just then, they hear Erica cry out from upstairs. They run out, meeting Allison and Lydia, and follow them up the stairs. They find Erica standing in front of the upstairs bathroom; Jackson is hanging from a noose tied to the chandelier in the bathroom. 

“Dude why do you have a chandelier in the bathroom?” Stiles asks, stunned by the sight in front of them.

Derek sighs as if the answer pains him greatly. “Peter did most of the decorating.” 

Lydia steps up. “Enough. This stops now. No more people die. Erica, why were you separated from Jackson?” 

She shrugs, “He had to go. I may have to hold his hand but I wasn’t about to hold that.” Her face is emotionless, a blank slate.

“Look, let’s just grab the cop from the media room and get everyone to a secure room,” says Allison. 

“Uhh, about that.” Stiles rubs the back of his neck. “He’s kinda dead.”

“What!?!” Allison shrieks. 

“We only left for a few minutes!” Derek says in defense.

“What, to go make-out in a corner?” smirks Lydia.

“What! No! Why would you think that?" When Stiles protests, he sees Derek stiffen beside him and shift away. Shit, did he offend Derek by so strongly objecting? ‘Cause believe it or not, there are no problems at all to being caught making out with a guy like Derek, just not when people were dropping like flies all around them. No, he would want to kiss him slow and sure, feel the scrape of stubble along his tongue as he made his way down his neck. All the while slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing what was sure to be a defined torso if the hardness he'd felt while brushing by Derek was any indication. 

"Stiles!" Derek growls out the side of his mouth.

"Oh right right. We went to check the library for a book, but it was locked. And when we went back to the media room, he was already dead.” Stiles says quickly, getting back to the original topic.

“Is the library usually locked?” Lydia asks.

“No, never.” Derek replies.

“Then the smart bet is that whatever he is hiding is in there,” states Lydia. “With whatever or whomever helped him place the symbols.” 

“Did anyone else find the symbols?” Stiles asks, looking around the hall.

“We did,” says Scott, coming up behind them. Stiles can see Kira smoothing her hair as she walks up. He raises an eyebrow to Scott, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Jackson’s dead, isn’t he?” asks Kira in a small voice. 

“Yes, and we are going to end this entire thing once and for all. No more danger, no more death. We break into the library and put Peter down.” Stiles says, looking determined.

“And if he has some sort of supernatural protection?” questions Kira.

Erica gives a deadly smile at that. “Then we take them out too.”

Downstairs they hear the doorbell ring. "I guess it's too much to ask if anyone ordered pizza?" sighs Stiles. 

"What do you think Peter ordered the singing telegram for?" asks Kira.

"To celebrate our impending doom?" counters Stiles.

"We need to get downstairs to the library anyway," responds Lydia.

Stiles snags Derek’s sleeve before he can get too far ahead. “Hey, I just wanted you to know that the one truth I said in the basement was definitely about kissing you. I hope I didn’t offend you just now.” 

Derek’s posture loosens at this admission. “It’s okay. And I know it’s a bit inappropriate to be thinking of that now, but maybe later? Revisit this?” Stiles nods and squeezes Derek’s hand quickly.

“Hey Casanovas! Hurry it up!” yells Lydia from the staircase.

Catching up with the others, they slowly make their way downstairs to the repetitive ringing of the doorbell. Derek begrudgingly opens the door as everyone crowds behind him. 

"Oh come on now, for reals?" says Stiles. Low and behold, there is a man on the doorstep dressed in a costume. "Is that a fairy? And a gorilla? A fairy hairy gorilla?" The gorilla opens his mouth and starts belting out _And I… will always love you!!!!_ horribly off key.

A shot rings out, striking the fairy hairy gorilla down. As the group turns around, they see Peter Hale slowly walking down the staircase, gun in hand. “I think it’s time we get to the finale in this little play we have going on, shall we? I believe you were headed to the library?”

“You mean you are willing to wait to give your evil villain monologue? Wait wait, is the setting in there more appropriate? Do you have an evil throne or something you need to perch on?” Stiles glares at Peter above them.

“Stiles!” Derek hisses.

“Do you make it a habit to talk back to every man with a loaded gun in their hand?” Peter muses. 

“No, just wanted you to feel special.” Stiles crosses his arms and tries to glare harder.

“Well then, please do lead the way Mr. Stilinksi.” Peter levels the gun at his head and motions toward the library. 

Derek lets a growl slip out before he can stop himself. “Now this is interesting.” Peter flashes his eyes in return and bares his fangs at him. Derek can’t help but cringe back and follow the pair without a word.

 

*** *** *** *** ***

When the group reaches the library, Peter pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, shoving Stiles in first. Derek follows them in, as does the rest of the group. Stiles glances around, letting out a low whistle. The walls are predictably covered in books, as are the multitude of shelves. A large stone fireplace graces the far wall bracketed by a couple of leather armchairs. He can see a pair of shadowy figures sitting in them but can’t tell anything else from this angle. 

It’s then he notices the swaths of writing and symbols gracing the surfaces of the library. “What the hell?” 

“A more true statement than you know, Mr. Stilinski.” He snaps his head around to glare at Peter. 

“These are demonic symbols aren’t they? This is dark magic in it’s purest form. They were the ones that helped you get around unnoticed by us. How you commited the murders and left no trace. Have you made a deal with the devil? You know that is going to end up bad for you somehow.” 

Peter starts to laugh. “I would be more worried about your own skin and those of your new found friends.” 

“You are willing to harm your own nephew in order to get what, power?” Stiles questions.

“You have it all wrong. I am doing this for Derek. For our family.” 

With a look of horror on his face, Derek whispers, “What have you done?” 

“I’ve done what I’ve had to do to bring back our family.” Peter says haughtily.

“They’re dead, what do you mean bring them back?” Derek’s voice is hoarse.

“I mean, dear nephew, that the deal I have made will restore our family to its former glory. It will restore everything we have lost.” 

“But at what cost? To you, to our family, to us?”

It dawns on Stiles then. “A soul for a soul,” he states.

He hears the others gasp behind him. Lydia moves towards the door, but it slams shut before she could take more than a step. Scott tries to move also, but it’s like he is frozen in place. Stiles guesses it probably has to do with the symbols scattered throughout the room. 

“Why now? Why use us?” Lydia demands. 

“All the sacrifices have to be made in the same night. What better way to bring people together than for a dinner party? We had a rather large family before Miss Argent’s aunt wiped us out because dear Derek here was too busy thinking with his dick,” Derek snarls at Peter and tries to lunge for him but, like the others, is stuck in place. “Using your favorite game as a child was just a bonus. Finding people that matched the characters was pathetically easy. And you didn’t even realize what was going on, even after you discovered I was blackmailing people. I wonder what you thought was going to happen at the end of this party? Did you think I was just going to get more money out of them? We have plenty of that, thanks to the insurance settlement. I want to bring our family back Derek, but you needed to suffer for getting them killed in the first place.”

“It wasn’t his fault. Kate was crazy; she would have found another way in.” Allison protests. 

“How sweet of you to defend him, but it’s too late for that now. Just like it’s too late for you.”

“Don’t do this Peter, please. I’ll do whatever you want just, please,” begs Derek.

“Kill them and they will all be back. Our family will be back, Derek. Don't you want that?”

“These people are innocent. They don't deserve to die.” 

“And our family did? We can be a pack again. We can make sure the whole Argent family is wiped out, make sure all hunters are. We can be safe.”

“Why would the demons or whatever agree to this? They aren’t getting anything out of this deal. It doesn’t add up,” muses Stiles.

“They just need some new vessels for a while. Derek and I won’t feel a thing.” Peter explains, not meeting anyone’s eyes. 

“You sold us?!” exclaims Derek.

“Temporarily. A few years of service and then we are free. Isn’t that worth it? Don’t you want to see your mother again, Derek? Your sisters?”

“Not like this. This isn’t worth it.”

“You have no choice, nephew. Not anymore” Stiles sees the shadows by the fireplace move at Peter’s statement. The closer they come, the more repulsed he is. He sees gaping dark holes where their eyes should be and it looks like their flesh is rotting away. 

“Oh good god. You want to become that?” Stiles gulps. “Man, you are stupider than you look.” 

“With our healing abilities that won’t happen.” Peter clarifies. “Once they regain their strength we will be free to go.” 

“And what, you just are taking them for their word? What proof do you have that they can actually bring back the dead?” Derek counters. 

“Why are you fighting this so much, Derek?” Peter catches the glance that Derek throws Stiles. “Oh, don’t tell me you have gone and gotten attached to one of these pathetic humans? It’s just like you to try and become a martyr, and all for some waste of a human.” 

Peter shifts into a hideous caricature of a wolf and backhands Derek. Stiles’ breath catches in his throat as he watches Derek slam hard against a side table. His gaze is forced away as Peter grabs him and yanks him forward. 

*** *** *** *** ***

Derek feels the sting of the impact as he lands against a side table. He struggles to catch his breath. When he had been ripped through whatever barrier was holding him in place, it had felt like he was being torn in two. As he turns over to get up, he notices a flash of silver under the table. The werewolf grabs the item, praying it won’t harm him in any way, and studies it under the guise of still getting up. It’s a dagger about the length of his hand with the same symbols from the walls on it.

Conviction of what needs to happen floods him when he looks around the room. He sees one of the creatures has reached Kira and that Peter has a hold of Stiles and is running his claws down the side of his neck. He knows what he has to do he just really doesn’t want to do it.

“Stop.” Everyone glances towards him then and freeze. Derek holds the knife held over his own chest. “I won’t let this happen. No more innocent people will die because of me.” He looks at Stiles then. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to ask you out on a date after this. Wanted to see who you think will end up on the Iron Throne. I wanted to watch the X-Files revival with you. I really wanted to kiss you in the basement. I wish I would have. Just please, find some way to stop him.” With that, he plunges the knife into his own chest.

*** *** *** *** ***

Stiles feels the whole world drop away as he watches Derek plunge the knife into his own chest, watches his body slump to the ground and the blood pool around him. “No! Derek!” 

Peter lets out a terrifying roar and throws Stiles to the side. Struggling to get up, Stiles tries to move towards Derek but pauses when one of the demons slides in front of Peter.

“Your deal is not valid. The contract is broken.” An un-earthly voice says.

“No, it can’t be broken, take Scott instead he is another werewolf, or Erica.” Peter begs.

“The contract is broken. You meant to betray.” The voice continues, picking up the knife Derek used. 

“You meant to get your family back but never intended to be used by the demons,” concluded Stiles. “I told you making a deal like this would end badly for you.” 

In an instant the two demons flank Peter and grip his arms. He screams, “No!! You can’t do this! We had a deal!” Instead of responding, a flash of light fills the room erasing the symbols and a deep shudder goes throughout the house. Stiles hears a gasp from where Derek is and sees him sitting up, an astonished look upon his face.

“I killed myself. Why am I still here? Is this heaven?” Derek looks up at Stiles.

“Only you would think I’m saintly enough to reach heaven.” Stiles responds, and a soft smile appears on both of their faces.

“Uhh guys? You wanna focus on the demons?” interrupts Scott.

Shaking his head, Stiles refocuses on the others in the room. Since the symbols disappeared, everyone can move freely about the room. Scott and Kira are cuddling in one corner, Lydia and Allison are sitting in another. The demons are flanking Peter who is looking around frantically for an escape route. The lead demon says, “The contract is broken.” 

“Right, we got that. What does that mean for the rest of us?” Stiles asks.

“He will pay.” The voice says.

“You okay with that Derek? He is the only family you have left,” Stiles looks down at Derek, placing one hand on his shoulder.

Derek responds sadly, “He stopped being family when he tried to kill everyone. For what it’s worth Peter, I am sorry about Kate.”

Peter, struggling against the demons, starts shouting at him, “I will get my revenge! I am the alpha. You have to listen to me!” 

“Just take him. But what about the others who were killed tonight; are they back like Derek?” 

“The contract is broken.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

With another flash of light, the demons and Peter disappear, along with the knife. Derek collapses when he feels a surge of power rip through him and the pack bonds re-establish. He knows when he opens his eyes that they will bleed red. 

Just then, Boyd comes running into the library. “Erica!” He lets out a sob as she flings herself at him. 

“Huh. I guess that’s what he meant.” Stiles says under his breath.

“Stilinski! What the hell is this?!” A harried looking man comes storming into the library, wearing a disheveled suit and a... was that a whistle? He flashes a badge, saying to no one in general, “FBI, Agent Finstock. Where the hell is Peter Hale, Stilinski?”

“About that coach,” Stiles trails off as the other agent keeps talking.

“You know what I don’t want to know, fill your file with whatever you want. Just please for the love of god, not another report on circumcision.” 

“Got it boss.”

“And will someone get Greenberg out of that gorilla suit!” Finstock yells out the door. 

The next few hours are chaos. The FBI raids the house and takes away the evidence of Peter’s blackmail. Statements are taken from some very confused civilians who remember coming into the mansion and then waking up with no recollection of how they got there. Derek watches Stiles talk over them until they manage to believe the story that Stiles is feeding them more than what they actually witnessed. 

Allison gently leads Isaac out the door after giving Derek her information. As they leave, she mentions that her father is looking to change their family’s code, and tacks on that maybe soon the two families can get along. Lydia strides up to Derek and tells him if he ever needs her services, they will be free. He flushes at this and she cackles as she shoos a confused Parrish out the door in front of her. 

Jackson leaves, informing Derek that he will be sending him the dry cleaning bill and that he expects a campaign donation from the Hales. Derek makes a mental note to ensure that the dry cleaners send him an Elvis suit back instead. Scott comes up after and asks to meet at a later time to talk about some werewolf 101 tips. Kira, hand in hand with Scott, asks permission to come use his library one day. She mentions her family's archive and poses a trade of information and books.

Erica fusses over Boyd until he escapes to the kitchen to whip up something for all the law enforcement officers and those still behind. She follows, not wanting to take her eyes off her love. 

Derek stands and surveys it all before slinking off into the media room. When he reaches the room, Stiles is there kneeling in front of his DVD collection. 

"Hey,” starts Derek.

"Hey."

"So...." 

"Did you mean what you said back there?" Stiles stands up and walks towards Derek, lounging on one of the chairs.

"Every word. Are you going to be in town long?" 

Stiles smiles slowly and slides closer to Derek. "Funny you should mention that. It just so happens I broke this huge case in my hometown. It may take a lot of interviews to wrap it all up. And since I have now officially met a werewolf, I need to add an entry to my bestiary." 

"First-hand knowledge is the best."

"I mean I could ask Scott, but I think he will be a bit busy." 

"Oh really?" Derek moves over on the chair, Stiles squeezes next to him.

"Yeah, there is this new alliance he has to form. Some new alpha in town. Told him I would help in negotiations." 

"How generous of you." 

"I'm here to help."

With a roll of his eyes, Derek closes the last bit of distance between them and kisses him. It's like coming home. Stiles’ lips are softer than he assumed and he lets out a strangled moan as Derek slips his tongue inside his mouth. Before it can get too heated, he pulls away softly, making Stiles moan in protest. 

"Why are you moving away?"

“As much as I would love to continue this, we have a house full of FBI agents, one of whom is your boss." 

"Point. But, this house is pretty big. Full of hidden passages. No one would know..." he says, running his hands under Derek’s jacket across his broad back. 

“Stiles." 

"Fine, fine. We can stay here instead. Make use of this awesome entertainment system. Or…..hey do you have any board games?" 

"Yeah, why?"

With a wicked grin Stiles asks, “You wouldn't happen to have Clue would you?" 

*** *** *** *** ***

Epilogue

Stiles leans against his jeep as he contemplates the mansion before him. He had just spent a grueling week in Sacramento dealing with the aftermath of the Hale case. Trying to come up with a plausible reason why Peter Hale had vanished was one of the hardest things he’s had to do. Eventually the secret passages in the Hale house had come in handy, and he was able to spin a tale of Peter escaping through one. The officials now think Peter is hiding somewhere south of the border.

He and Derek had spent the week apart texting madly, getting to know each other. It was no substitute for an actual date, but considering their first one had involved demons from hell it was better than nothing. Through Derek, he was able to keep informed on what the others were up to.

Allison and Lydia had left together after the party, and stayed together to take over the world most likely Stiles muses. Lydia had promised a place for Allison in her agency if she ever decided to leave her family. To everyone’s great surprise, it was Allison’s father that blew the whistle on his own family. With the help of Lydia’s shrewd business sense, they are able to turn the family business legitimate again. Allison works for Lydia, but in conjunction with her family’s business.

Kira left the party, graciously offering Scott a ride. They defy all the legends of foxes and wolves not getting along. Kira dedicates a character with bushy eyebrows to Derek and her fans take an instant liking to the sour puss ghost. Scott gains newfound fame at school when people realize he is dating the artist of a popular comic. Stiles and Scott renew their epic bromance by hosting many late night gaming sessions. They intersperse them with strategic sessions on whether they should add a goatee or a mustache to Jackson’s campaign posters around town. 

Jackson, despite being Jackson, comes out of the escapade seemingly unfazed. But Stiles notices how any gossip connecting him to Lydia’s business disappears, and how his campaign started to reach out to women’s rights groups. 

Erica and Boyd make plans to move out of the Hale mansion when they get married. Derek had told Stiles that he agreed to hold the wedding on his property and was footing the whole bill for the affair. 

Stiles looks up at the house and has a sense of unease. Despite all the texting Derek and he had done in the past week, he is suddenly nervous about going up and knocking on the door. The night that everything had gone down with Peter had created a bond between them, but he wasn’t sure if it was a lasting bond. Sure they had been texting, but what if their in-person chemistry was a fluke? What if it was all built on the stress of staying alive? Derek could take one look at him and wonder why he was ever attracted to him in the first place. 

He takes a few hesitant steps towards the door but pauses again as he hears and sees two balls of fur barreling towards him. Stiles braces himself as the dogs fling themselves on him. They all fall over and he rolls around on the lawn laughing as they bathe him happily with their tongues.

*** *** *** *** ***

Derek hears the jeep the second it turned on to his access road. He stops rearranging the throw pillows in the parlor for the fifth time. So maybe he was a little nervous about seeing Stiles in person. Sure, they had been texting furiously back and forth in the week that had passed since that night, but it wasn’t the same. What if their chemistry was just in his imagination? What if Stiles had come to his senses and had come to tell him there is no way he wants to be with a loser that got his family killed, whose uncle had almost got a whole house of people killed? No. No, Stiles had said it wasn’t his fault. For the first time since the fire, he almost believes it. He believes that maybe he was in fact worth something. 

So caught up in his thoughts, Derek almost misses the jeep pulling into the drive. He hears the door of the jeep slam but he doesn’t hear footsteps moving towards the house. Oh god, what if Stiles is having second thoughts. What if he is just going to climb back in the jeep and leave, sending a message later “Sorry, changed my mind”? He hears Stiles start walking, only to hear the sharp bark of Scully, which shit he forgot that they were loose. He runs to the door and throws it open, and is struck by the sight in front of him. 

Stiles is rolling around on the lawn being bathed in dog kisses by Mulder and Scully, who have tackled him to the ground. He watches them try and lick his face and Derek is hit by a jolt of pure lust. He wants to be the one on top of him, bathing him with his tongue. Just you know, without the layers of clothes Stiles has seemingly piled on himself. Was that a graphic tee, a flannel shirt _and_ a red hoodie? 

“I don’t think that’s appropriate attire for the workplace,” Derek says, walking to the porch edge.

Stiles’ head snaps up at this and his grin is quick and bright. “Well it is casual Friday,” he says, climbing to his feet and striding forward. He pauses at the bottom of the steps facing Derek, the dogs clamoring behind him. 

 

*** *** *** *** ***

Stiles pauses at the bottom of the steps, slightly unsure of how to proceed. Derek looks like a Greek statue, standing with the house at his back the light of the setting sun casting shadows on his beautiful face. He is wearing a tight sweater with _is that thumbholes?_ that clings to his broad shoulders and sinfully tight jeans. He looks slightly nervous himself, which fills Stiles with relief. He is so so glad that he isn’t the only one nervous about meeting up again.

Suddenly filled with confidence, he bounds up the steps and throws himself at Derek before he can lose his nerve again. Derek catches him easily with a relieved smile on his face before he dives in to kiss the man he’d been dreaming about since he left. 

Stiles can feel the rasp of stubble against his mouth before Derek parts his lips and swallows him greedily. The press and feel of his tongue is amazing and he presses even closer to him. He wraps his arms around Derek and moves his hands up his broad and back down before gripping his hips. Pulling back slightly, he mumbles out “God how can I have missed you so much?” while peppering kisses down Derek’s throat. 

In response Derek groans and rocks his hips into Stiles. “We should get off the porch. Take it upstairs to my bed.” 

Stiles nips and licks his way up to Derek’s ear before murmuring, “Yes we should; we have a lot of rooms to christen.” 

*** *** *** *** ***

With a growl, Derek grabs Stiles’ waist and hefts him up, walking towards the stairs. Squawking slightly, Stiles quickly wraps his long legs around his waist. 

“So this is a thing, a very sexy thing,” Stiles proclaims.

Derek responds by pressing him against the wall by the staircase and they leisurely make out for several minutes. He drags his stubble across Stiles’ neck, smirking when he hears a gasp and nips at his earlobe. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this immensely,” Stiles proves this fact by rocking his hips against Derek as much as he can pinned against the wall, “But you mentioned something about a bed?”

Huffing lightly, Derek loosens his hold on Stiles and lets him slide down before grabbing his hand _with the long fingers he can’t wait to feel running all over him_ to tug him up the stairs. The next few minutes are a blur of clothes flying off as they try and climb the stairs and strip at the same time. 

By the time they reach his bedroom, Derek has no shirt and his jeans are unbuttoned. He can see Stiles’ flannel hanging haphazardly from a picture frame down the hall and he watches him try and struggle out of his t-shirt. More than willingly to help, he runs his hands up from Stiles’ waist to the top of his surprisingly broad shoulders, helping him tug the shirt off. They tumble into his room with a laugh, shirt ending up somewhere in the hallway.

*** *** *** *** ***

Stiles is still laughing as they stumble into Derek’s room. He glances around seeing some framed prints and a few Pop figures before commenting, “Huh, based on downstairs I would have expected your room to be well, nerdier.”

Rolling his eyes, Derek responds, “You want to talk about my decorating skills now?”

“Well no, not really I just.. I dunno.”

“Peter didn’t really approve of all that stuff, so I pay for a storage place to keep most of it there.” Derek says, blushing so that even the tips of his ears are red. And Jesus, the blushing should not be as attractive as it is.

“Oh my god please fuck me.” oh god did he just say that out loud?

He sees Derek’s eyes flash red before the man practically throws him on the bed and presses himself against him. Derek takes the time to gently set his glasses aside before beginning his sweet torture. He groans as Derek begins making his way down his bare chest, stopping to suck on his right nipple before nosing at his happy trail. 

“Derek,” Stiles groans, pulling the man back up for a fierce kiss. Derek pulls back to remove his shoes and the rest of his clothes and Stiles flails to do the same. They crash back together and he gasps at the feel of a very naked Derek Hale pressed fully against him.

He doesn’t remember the next few minutes clearly, it’s all just a jumble of naked limbs, groping, and the mad scramble to touch as much of Derek as possible. He chases a bead of sweat down Derek’s chest, getting lost in the sensation of his chest hair rubbing against his cheek. He discovers the tattoo on Derek’s back and traces the pattern with his tongue, feeling him shudder beneath him. 

The world seems to come back into focus when he hears the click of a lube cap. He doesn’t remember Derek moving away to get it and then he doesn’t think anything at all when he feels Derek’s fingers circle his entrance. He is lost to the sensation of Derek opening him up slowly, making sure to brush up against his prostate every few strokes driving him mad with _more more more_ but it’s not enough. 

“Please Derek please. I need…,” he breaks off with a gasp as Derek abruptly pulls his fingers out.

“Hey hey, I got you. Don’t worry.” A soft kiss is pressed to his forehead as he hears the crinkle of a condom wrapper. ”How do you want this Stiles. Tell me. You have to tell me.”

Surging upwards Stiles all but rips the condom out of Derek’s hand and presses him down to the bed. All of this is achieved with no elbows in the face, of which he is rather proud. Breathing deeply, he slowly unwraps the condom and slithers down Derek so he can slowly roll it down his length. 

“God, Stiles your hands. Ever since I first saw you, your hands have been driving me crazy.” Derek’s voice is breathless above him.

“What, these old things,” he says, wiggling them in his face, before placing them on Derek’s chest and sinking slowly down on him. They both moan as he bottoms out. “I hate to break this to you, but I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

“Me neither,” Derek admits with a strangled groan as he thrusts up involuntary. “Been wanting this for too long.” 

“I’m glad that’s settled then,” he declares before starting to ride Derek. This act has never felt so right before, as perfect as it is with him. They move in perfect sync with each other, matching the other thrust for thrust. He runs his hands down Derek’s chest, tweaking his nipples, and the man’s hips falter as he comes with a gasp. He quickly starts to pump himself and all it takes is Derek’s fumbling hand grasping around him before he comes with a wrecked groan. He collapses on top of Derek, not caring if they get stuck together later. 

Eventually, Derek rolls them gently over and goes to the bathroom to clean up and bring a towel back for Stiles. When Derek climbs back into bed, he realizes something with a snort. 

“What’s so funny?” Derek asks as he nuzzles into Stiles’ side.

“We never even said hello today.” 

Derek glances up at him before breaking into a long rich laugh that he can’t help but join in. Snuggling into the warmth of his personal werewolf oven, he asks “So what movies do you--” He breaks off with a yelp as Derek pinches his side. 

“You know what that was for.” 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t even going to ask for that movie this time. But now that you assumed, maybe I’ll just ask if you have Star Wars Episode One up here. And if we can skip to Jar Jar’s entrance.” 

With a mock glare, Derek perches up on his elbow to look down on him. Then he smiles softly at him before saying, “Oh, you know you are the Obi-Wan for me, Stiles.”

Stiles’ jaw drops. “Did you just pun-pick-up line me, Derek Hale?”

Derek’s grin gets even wider _and jesus his smile should be illegal in all fifty states._ “Come on Stiles, get a clue.” His laugh is muffled by the thwap of a pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> There be spoilers ahead!
> 
> So yes, a lot of characters die in this story. But all except Peter are not permanent. I debated for a long time if I should tag it as major character death because of Derek's white knight moment. But since Derek's 'death' at the end lasted for so little time I did not include it. Derek realizes what Peter is doing and hopes that by sacrificing himself the others will be able to get out of there. The demons see the knife and realize that Peter is being a sneaky shit so they call off the deal and bring everyone back to life.


End file.
